CAMP  FIRE  CHAT. 


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CAMP-FIRE  CHATS 

OF  TIIE 

Civil  War; 

BEING  THE  INCIDENT,  ADVENTURE  AND  WAYSIDE  EXPLOIT  OF  THE 

BIVOUAC  AND  BATTLE  FIELD, 

AS  RELATED  BY 

VETERAN  SOLDIERS  THEMSELVES. 


EMBRACING  THE  TRAGEDY , ROMANCE , COMEDY,  HUMOR 
AND  PATHOS  IN  THE  VARIED  EXPERIENCES 
OF  ARMY  LIFE. 


BY  WASHINGTON  DAYIS. 


ALSO  A HISTORY®  OF  THE 

GRAND  ARMY  OF  THE  REPUBLIC 

FROM  ITS  BEGINNING  TO  THE  PRESENT  DATE,  AND  OTHER  VALUABLE 
INFORMATION. 

By  A COMRADE. 


CHICAGO : 

COBLEIGH  & ROTII. 
1891. 


COPYRIGHT  BY 

A*  B.  GEHMAN  & CO. 
1886.  . 


OONOHTTE  & HENNEBERRY 

PRINTERS  AND  HINDERS, 
CHICAGO. 


<=)  73-7*3 
D2“?  c. 

I‘6CI  I 


TH  E 

Gi^and  Hi^my  op  THE  ^EPUBLNS, 

THE  VETERANS  AND  THE  VOLUNTEERS 

OF  THE 

CIVIL  WAR, 

UPON  WHOSE  LOYALTY  AROSE  THE  STANDARD  OF  PERPEV  iiU  LNlQsrf, 
AND  TO  THEIR  WIVES,  SISTERS  AND  MOTHER  .f 

THI  j3  VOLUJVIE 

IS  ^ESPEGHIPUDLY  DEDICATED, 

IN  THE  HOPE  THAT  IT  MAY  REMAIN 
A TESTAMENT  TO  THEIR  HEROIC  ENDURANCE,  AND  A TRIBUT*  TO  THEIR 
HALLOWED  MEMORY. 


7 


Tenting  on  the  Old  Camp  Ground.* 


We’re  tenting  to  niglit  on  the  old  camp  ground, — 
Give  us  a song  to  cheei 
Our  weary  hearts,  a song  of  home 
And  the  friends  we  love  so  dear. 

chorus: 

Many  are  the  hearts  that  are  weary  to-night. 
Wishing  for  the  war  to  cease; 

Many  are  the  hearts  looking  for  the  right. 

To  see  the  dawn  of  peace. 

refrain: 

Tenting  to-night,  tenting  to-night, 

Tenting  on  the  old  camp  ground. 

We’ve  been  tenting  to-night  on  the  old  camp  ground* 
Thinking  of  days  gone  by; 

Of  the  loved  ones  at  home  who  gave  us  the  hand, 

And  the  ear  hat  said  “Good-bye!  ” 

chorus: 

We  are  tired  of  war  on  the  old  camp  ground, — 

Many  are  dead  and  gone, 

Of  the  loved  and  true  who’ve  left  their  homes; 

Others  been  wounded  long. 

chorus: 

We’ve  been  fighting  to-day  on  the  old  camp  ground, —«=» 
Many  are  lying  near; 

Some  are  dead,  and  some  dying; 

Many  are  in  tears. 

CHORUS  AND  REFRAIN: 

Dying  to  n;ght,  dying  to  night. 

Dying  on  the  old  camp  ground. 


“Copyright.  Used  by  permission  of  O.  Ditson  & Co. 


vi 


preface. 


ZT  is  hoped  that  no  “ crying  need  ” or  “long-felt  want” 
has  Deen  satisfied  by  the  publication  of  Camp-Fire 
Chats.  Nor  has  the  manuscript  been  prepared  for 
the  private  perusal  of  a few  of  the  author’s  friends;  but 
this  volume  has  been  published  for  the  same  purpose  as  are 
other  books  in  these  latter  days  (save  the  reports  issued  by 
good  old  honest  Uncle  Sam),  with  the  additional  intent  of 
preserving  a few  points  of  history,  and  some  features  of 
army  life  not  before  delineated.  To  this  end  the  subject 
matter  has  been  selected,  with  sufficient  humorous  incident, 
it  is  thought,  to  relieve  the  work  of  dryness. 

Only  one  claim  is  made:  the  stories  are  fresh  and  here- 
tofore unpublished;  and  in  gathering  the  material  from  the 
field  the  publishers  and  the  author  have  spared  neither  labor 
nor  expense.  It  was  realized  that  much  wholesome  ro- 
mance, together  with  many  details  in  the  history  of  the 
Civil  War,  remained  treasured  only  in  the  memories  of  the 
veterans,  or  at  least  had  not  found  their  way  into  print, 
and  must  necessarily  perish  with  the  soldiers,  unless  the 
many  interesting  stories  told  at  the  various  camp-fires  of 
the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  were  preserved.  The 
preservation  of  these  also  achieves  a very  praiseworthy  re- 
sult: It  furnishes  to  youthful  minds  a far  better  class  of 

reading  than  the  mass  of  exciting  and  pernicious  literature 
thrust  upon  them  from  all  sides. 


VI 


viii 


PREFACE. 


Each  speaker  has  been  given  due  credit,  and  is  therefore 
responsible  for  the  tale  he  has  told.  No  character  sketches 
have  been  attempted,  for,  since  the  characters  are  all  living,  it 
has  been  deemed  unsafe  for  the  author’s  physical  well-being; 
and  then  such  sketches,  either  pen  portrait  or  caricature,  have 
been  odious  to  the  writer  ever  since  his  school-boy  days, 
when  he  was  cartooned  on  the  old  school-yard  fence  by  a 
youthful  genius  with  a stolen  piece  of  chalk. 

Thanks  to  the  many  who  have  furnished  the  anecdotes 
herein  contained,  and  for  their  kind  assistance  so  freely  tend- 
ered the  author  while  collecting  the  data;  and  especially  to 
Symmes  M.  Jelley,  A.  M.  If  the  book  is  welcomed  by  the 
public  as  heartily  as  the  author  has  been  received  by  the 
members  of  the  Grand  Army,  no  anxiety  will  be  felt  by 

W.  D. 

.January,  1884. 


The  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  has  grown  rapidly 
since  1884.  Mighty  in  numbers ; leader  in  patriotism ; 
crowned  with  the  admiration  and  love  of  the  Nation : its 
success  is  both  a pride  and  a joy  to  everyone.  No  other 
nation  has  such  a body  of  men.  Their  plans,  their  acts, 
their  words  are  eagerly  read  by  Columbia's  happy  millions. 
The  camp-fire  chats  of  to-day  have  a precious  value ; not 
alone  when  modestly  recounting  incidents  of  that  American 
valor  and  voluntary  sacrifice  that  the  world  pronounces  un- 
equaled, but  also  when  teaching  genuine  patriotism — an 
unselfish  love  of  country. 

The  publishers  add  fifty  pages,  skillfully  • gathered  by  a 
Comrade  from  the  G.  A.  R.  riches  of  the  past  three  years. 

' January,  1887. 


CAMP-FIRE  I. 

The  S.  P.  U.  H. — The  First  Camp-Fire — The  Camp  of  Instruction- 
The  Farmer  and  the  Watermelons — “ How  Tedious  and  Tasteless  th 
Hours  ” — The  Closing  Scene. 

CAMP-FIRE  II. 

How  a Balky  Horse  did  not  Surrender— The  Execution  of  Deserters 
—A  Pension  for  a Pin-Scratch. 

CAMP-FIRE  III. 

The  Maddest  Man  in  the  Army — A Regimental  Foot  Race — Effects 
of  Excitement — “ Bress  de  Lor’.” 

CAMP-FIRE  IV, 

Buttermilk  Without  Money,  but  not  Without  Price — Freaks  undei 
Fire — “ Johnnies  ” and  MYanka”  atop  Shooting  to  Shake  hands — Sol- 
diers at  the  Fort  Different  from  a Home  Guards  ” — Origin  of  “ Hold 
the  Fort” 

CAMP-FIRE  V. 

A Surprise  for  the  Johnnies — With  Banks  up  the  Red  River — Prison 
Life  in  Texas— Soldiers  yet  on  Parole — Trouble  Between  the  13th  and 
19th  Army  Corps. 

CAMP-FIRE  VI. 

“ Slap-Jacks  ” — A Trip  up  the  Tennessee — The  Horrors  of  Valley 
Forge  Repeated — Bullets  and  Etiquette — “Copper-Heads.” 

ix 


X 


CONTENTS* 


CAMP-FIRE  VII. 

A Banquet  to  the  S.  P.  U.  H. — “ S.  B.” — A Classical  Exposition  of 
the  Term,  and  some  Reminiscences  for  Illustration. 

CAMP-FIRE  VIII. 

Libby  Prison — The  “Horned  Yankee” — Andersonville,  whose  Sur- 
name is  Death — A Modern  Miracle — The  Altar  of  Kleptomania  Receives 
a Sacrifice  of  Seven. 

CAMP-FIRE  IX. 

The  Florence  Prison — Homeward  Bound — Pathetic  Incidents. 

CAMP-FIRE  X. 

War  on  the  Water — Daring  Deeds— How  Many  Regiments  each  Man 
Captured — Remarkable  Escapes — The  Biggest  Liar  in  the  War. 

CAMP-FIRE  XI. 

Sutlers — Quartermasters — Mules — How  Rich  a Soldier  must  be  to 
Buy  Anything  from  a Sutler — The  Profits  in  the  Government  Appoint- 
ment of  Quartermaster  on  a Regular  Salary — Eulogy  on  the  Sutler  and 
the  Army  Mule. 

CAMP-FIRE  XII. 

Bushwhacking — What  Circumstances  do  with  Cases — A Jest  on  Gen. 
A.  J.  Smith — Foraging. 

CAMP-FIRE  XIII. 

Battles  Unsung  by  the  Muse  of  History — Origin  of  the  Stars  and 
Stripes — Genealogy  of  George  Washington, 

CAMP-FIRE  XIV. 

A Rollicking  Recruit — Love  and  War — The  S.  P.  U.  H.  Sutler— 
44  When  Gabriel  Blows  his  Trumpet  in  de  Morning.” 

CAMP-FIRE  XV. 

The  Race  for  Columbia — “ To  Amputate  or  not  to  Amputate?” 

CAMP-FIRE  XVI. 

44  Brazen  Effrontery  Corduroy  Roads — Long  John,  the  Darkey. 

CAMP-FIRE  XVII. 

Lazy  Jim’s  Stratagem  to  Avoid  Walking  Back  to  Camp— “They  got 
our  Flag  Anecdote  of  General  Sherman. 


CONTENTS. 


xi 


CAMP-FIRE  XVIII 

Many  were  Called,  but  One  was  Chosen— A Sad  Occurrence — “Let 
the  Dead  and  the  Beautiful  Rest.” 

CAMP-FIRE  XIX. 

A Reminiscence  of  General  Nelson — A Sham  Battle  Demolishes  a 
Sutler’s  Store. 

CAMP-FIRE  XX. 

“When  this  Cruel  War  is  over” — A Continuation  of  Camp-Fire 
XVIII. — A “ Muley  ” Yoke  of  “ Muley  ” Oxen. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXI. 

The  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  not  a Political  Organization — Its 
Principles:  Fraternity,  Charity,  Loyalty — A Complete,  Brief  Record  of 
its  Organization  and  Growth  to  the  Present  Time. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXII. 

A Romance  of  the  War — A Story  Strange  but  True — What  an  Insane 
Fisherman  Caught. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXIII. 

The  Wrong  Ox  by  the  Horns — The  Tables  Turned  on  an  Officer’s 
Strict  Discipline — A Decision  by  Mansfield,  General — Rivalry  in 
Religion. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXIV. 

Wrong  Kind  of  a Cat — “ More  About  the  Broken  Window,”  or  Craw- 
ford Again. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXV. 

A Raw  Recruit’s  Anxiety — Another  Story  about  Another  Mule — 
On  the  St.  Francis  River — A General  Incog.  Refused  a Cup  of  Coffee 
— A Confederate’s  Idea  of  what  the  Gospel  is. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXVI. 

The  Sequel  to  the  Farmer  and  the  Watermelons — The  Un-wisdom  of 
a Raw  Recruit — A Joke  on  the  General — The  Temperance  Major — The 
Captain  who  didn’t  Water  his  Whiskey. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXVII. 

Home  on  a Furlough — A Premonition  of  Death — Hours  of  Peril. 


xii 


CONTENTS. 


CAMP-FIRE  XXVIII. 

Dinnis  M’Ginley  as  the  Secretary  of  War” — Mart  McCoy  and  the 
General— How  the  1 5th  Corps  came  by  its  Badge — The  Romance  that 
a Spent  Ball  Brought  About — How  Wheeler’s  Cavalry  got  some  Corn 
Meal — Sensations  upon  Seeing  a Comrade  Killed  by  a Bullet. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXIX. 

The  Truth  about  the  Capture  of  the  Guerilla  Chieftain,  John  Morgan 
—Audacious  Audacity — The  Last  Plank  of  the  Ship  of  State. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXX. 

A Mule  Driver’s  Peculiarities — Foragers — Major  Collins’  Negro  Bo yf 
Fraction — The  Sad  Story  of  an  Unknown  Michigan  Soldier. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXXI. 

“Desecrated”  Vegetables — What  they  were  and  how  they  Cooked 
’Em — Shaming  the  “ Biggest  Liar.” 

CAMP-FIRE  XXXII. 

Two  of  Mosby’s  Men  Personate  Union  Officers — A Successful  Mili- 
tary Manoeuver — Character  Maintained  Notwithstanding  the  Demoral- 
izing Influences  of  Army  Life. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXXIII. 

Reminiscences  of  the  Battle  of  Corinth — A Brave  Boy  in  Gray — The 
Old  Canteen. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXXIV. 

The  Last  Camp-Fire — The  End  of  the  Season — The  S.  P.  U.  H; 
Valedictory — A Hymn  of  Peace. 

CAMP  FIRE  XXXV. 

Rally  Again  ! — The  Veterans  Must  Meet  Together — How  the  G.  A. 
R.  Grows  — A Third  of  a Million  Comrades  — Over  One  Hundred  Thou- 
sand in  Associate  Societies  — The  Battles  and  Important  Events  of  the 
War  Arranged  by  Dates. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXXVI. 

Events  Preliminary  to  the  Firing  of  Sumter  — The  Different  Calls  for 
Troops  — Strength  of  the  Army  — Number  of  Soldiers  From  Each 
State. 


CONTENTS. 


xiii 


CAMP-FIRE  XXXYII. 

Strength  of  the  U.  S.  Army  at  Various  Dates  and  at  the  Present  Time 
— The  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  — The  Eighteenth  National  En- 
campment at  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXXVIII. 

The  Nineteenth  National  Encampment  at  Portland,  Me,  — Mother 
Bickerdyck  — Mrs.  Anna  Wittenmyer  — Fraternity,  Charity  and  Loyalty 
in  the  Order. 

CAMP-FIRE  XXXIX. 

The  Battle  of  Gettysburg — The  Trip  to  California  — The  Wonderful 
Scenery  in  Colorado  — Reception  of  the  G.  A.  R.  at  San  Francisco  — 
Business  of  the  Encampment. 

CAMP-FIRE  XL. 

Sacramento  and  Other  Cities  Honor  the  G.  A.  R.  — The  Ladies  of  the 
Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  — The  Woman’s  Relief  Corps — The  Sons 
of  Veterans  — The  Daughters  of  Veterans  — The  Nation’s  Grateful  Love 
for  the  Grand  Army. 


^IiiiiUST^AirioNs.-^ 


X 


X 

A Camp-fire  Chat Frontispiece 

Knapsack 24 

Cartridge  Box 31 

The  Old  Mill 35 

“ Bress  de  Lor’  ” 41 

Shell-gun 43  / 

Skirmish  Line 49 

Camp  Ford,  Texas 65 

Haversack 72 

“ Fall  in  for  Grub  ” 85 

Bombs 91 

Libby  Prison * 97 

Andersonville 107 

Pontoon  Bridge 137 

Shot  out  of  a Cannon 145 

Redoubt 149 

Foraging , 167 

Shrapnel  Shell 169 

Charge  of  Cavalry 314 

A Halt  on  the  March 187 

Corduroy  Road.. 199 

The  Latest  News 280 

Battle  of  Lookout  Mountain 269 

The  Morning  Reveille 223 

A Midnight  March 329 

G.  A.  R.  Badge * 245 

Gen.  Lucius  Fairchild 2 

Gen.  W.  T.  Sherman 346 

Gen.  John  A.  Logan 370 

Battle  of  Gettysburg 381 

The  Royal  Gorge 383 

Gen.  Walter  S.  Payne 403 

xiv 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS 


INTRODUCTION. 


|E  VER  was  there  war  or  military  conflict  more  prolific 
of  incident  than  the  Civil  War  of  America.  The 
explosion  of  a shell  was  frequently  followed  by  the 
crack  of  a joke,  and  a bullet  or  a bayonet  produced  more  fun 
than  fear;  yet  neither  were  ever  so  close  that  they  left  no  time 
for  a prayer.  The  raging  battle  was  never  so  intense  that  a 
dying  comrade  could  not  be  given  a drink  of  water;  and  no 
march  was  ever  so  long,  nor  fatigue  so  great,  that  a biscuit 
could  not  be  divided  with  a messmate.  Such  was  the  sym- 
pathy which  held  the  army  with  its  common  cord. 

But  this  is  easily  understood;  for  behind  the  war  of  mus- 
ketry was  a war  of  mind.  Each  bullet  and  each  bayonet  was 
guided  by  a thought  and  an  inspiration,  whose  constancy 
placed  upon  each  fort  and  parapet  an  emblem  of  fraternity 
and  liberty  which  put  to  shame  the  ancient  banners  of  spolia- 
tion and  conquest. 

Spartan  bravery  could  not  have  coped  with  American 
courage  in  such  a struggle;  nor  the  ominious  crescent  of  the 
Saracens  have  been  more  awe-inspiring,  nor  the  cross  of  the 
Crusaders  more  worshipful,  than  the  flag  which  quieted  the 
trembling  sovereignty  of  the  western  world. 

The  history  of  this  war  has  been  written,  the  causes  and 
results  have  been  discussed,  and  the  record  made;  but  the  nar- 
ration of  personal  adventure  and  observation  can  never  fail  to 


INTRODUCTION 


iS 

be  of  interest,  and  the  tales,  by  those  who  survive,  of  the  true 
bravery  of  America’s  noblest  sons,  with  their  daring  deeds 
and  marvelous  exploits,  will  ever  remain  in  the  hearts  of  the 
people,  like  the  traditions  of  old,  and  become  the  fireside  his- 
tory of  a modern  conflict  between  the  brothers  of  a nation,  in 
which  both  believed  themselves  in  the  right. 

And,  indeed,  it  is  here  that  we  must  look  for  the  real  his- 
tory and  the  exposition  of  the  true  character  of  a people  in 
time  of  war.  The  movements,  campaigns  and  statistics  of 
armies  may  be  chronicled,  and  in  their  cumbersome  dryness 
be  placed  away  among  the  archives  of  the  nation ; but  the 
veritable  disposition  of  those  who  harbor  the  passion,  the 
coolness,  the  love,  the  hate,  the  sympathy,  the  cruelty,  the 
right,  the  wrong, — must  ever  be  sought  from  individual 
sources. 

It  is  not  possible  to  give  every  soldier’s  experience  through 
the  entire  war,  but  the  incidents  in  this  volume  are  taken  from 
actual  experiences.  If  the  aim  has  been  accomplished,  a variety 
of  information  has  been  disclosed  which  will  give  to  the  gen- 
eral reader  a picture  of  war  and  army  life  such  as  has  never 
been  presented  to  the  people. 

Many  books  give  a drawn-out  list  of  battles  as  the  history 
of  our  Civil  War.  The  war  was  not  in  all  a military  con- 
flict; it  was  a complete  revolution,  in  which  the  many  customs 
and  whole  life  of  one  people  were  changed,  and  as  a result  of 
which  new  energy  thrilled  another  people.  The  war  was 
not  all  battles  nor  all  marches;  but  a stern  struggle  of  com- 
bined intellectual  and  physical  forces.  Intelligence  and 
reason  pervaded  rank  and  file;  and  while  the  sword  was  in  its 
scabbard,  between  acts,  discussion  held  sway.  It  was  in  this 
way  that  the  revolutionary  features  were  slowly  wrought  out, 
and  this  will  be  clear  only  when  we  have  paused  by  many  a 
camp-fire  to  witness  the  manifestations  of  a change  in  oul 
national  character,  as  disclosed  by  the  actors  themselves. 


CAMP-FIRE  I. 


THE  S.  P.  U.  H. — THE  FIRST  CAMP-FIRE THE  CAMP  OF 

INSTRUCTION THE  FARMER  AND  THE  WATERMELONS 

“HOW  TEDIOUS  AND  TASTELESS  THE  HOURS” THE 

CLOSING  SCENE. 

Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished  His- 
r,  having  been  duly  authorized  and  organized,  with 
1 of  its  members  a living  embodiment  of  all  the 
accomplishments  desirable  in  a minor  historian,  and  each  a 
commissioned  and  lawful  emissary  of  the  great  Muse,  went 
forth  determined  to  prove  the  beneficence  of  its  existence,  by 
first  gathering  in  and  giving  shelter  to  such  facts  and  observa- 
tions in  the  history  of  the  Civil  War  in  America  as  had  not 
felt  the  protecting  hand  of  the  “art  preservative  of  all  arts.” 
What  the  society  lacked  in  numbers  it  made  up  in  spirit,  and 
if  its  physical  shortcoming  was  marked,  its  Muse-ical  devel- 
opment was  proportionally  great. 

One  feature,  however,  was  especially  noticeable,  and  this 
was  the  unusually  large  ears  of  the  members,  which  was 
only  another  evidence  of  their  fitness  for  the  work  in  hand. 
Aided  by  this  abnormal  development  they  would  collect  the 
dying  accents  of  many  an  unwept  hero ; and,  moreover,  in 
the  modern  school  of  ethics,  an  attentive  ear  is  more  to  be 
admired  than  an  oily  tongue;  yea,  than  a tongue  doubly  oiled. 
Likewise,  they  were  well  equipped  in  every  appointment.  But 
it  must  not  be  inferred  from  this  that  the  members  of  the 
S.  P.  U.  H.  belong  to  the  long-eared  race  of  zoology,  or  that 

(3)  *7 


:8  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

all  historians  have  long  ears,  or  that  the  long-eared  race  are 
all  historians,  for  such  an  inference  would  be  historically  in- 
correct, and  far  from  the  purpose  of  the  fraternity. 

Enthusiastic  over  their  worthy  intention,  the  S.  P.  U.  H. 
arrived  at  a post  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  imme- 
diately sought  out  the  commander,  and  notified  him  that  their 
great  ears  itched  for  stones  of  the  war,  and  memoirs  of  army 
life.  That  eminent  was  astonished.  Whether  to  consider 
the  society  a fraud  or  a humbug  he  did  not  know.  Certainly 
it  was  not  real,  and  yet  the  age  of  myths  and  miracles  was 
past. 

“War!”  said  he;  “I  surrender.  Your  assault  has  found 
me  unarmed.  The  attack  is  a complete  surprise.” 

Twenty  years  of  active  business  life  had  dispelled  all  mili- 
tary thoughts*  In  his  efforts  to  recall  his  early  life  the  gray- 
haired veteran  was  almost  tranced.  But  the  balm  of  assur- 
ance was  administered,  his  soldierly  instincts  returned,  and  the 
commander  invited  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  to  be  at  the  rendezvous 
when  the  sun’s  rays  should  be  succeeded  by  those  from  the 
camp-fire. 

They  consented,  and  at  the  appointed  time  met  the  assem- 
bled veterans,  who  had  been  summoned  into  camp  by  the 
commander.  After  the  fire  burned  well  and  threw  its  com- 
fort into  the  faces  of  those  present,  the  historical  hard-tack 
and  coffee  were  served  in  the  style  a la  i86i-’65.  When  this 
was  done  the  chief  bade  the  soldiers  be  quiet,  and  thus  ex- 
horted them: 

“Comrades — I have  called  you  into  camp  this  evening  for 
special  duty.  We  have  present  a representative  of  the  Society 
for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished  History.  The  ears  of 
this  society  itch  for  stories  of  our  old  camp-fires,  marches, 
battles  and  crude  experiences,  and  memories  of  our  ancient 
valor.  Let  him  among  you  who  has  the  easiest  tongue  and 
best  memory  now  speak.  Whoever  may  give  any  curious 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


l9 


information  about  the  many  features  of  soldier  life,  or  describe 
the  manners  and  customs  of  the  rank  and  file,  the  saddle,  the 
battery  or  the  gunboat,  or  give  a strange  adventure,  or  some 
point  of  history  heretofore  unrecorded,  shall  have  his  name 
and  regiment  written  in  the  great  book  of  the  Muse,  which 
the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished  History  has 
now  in  charge.  If  any  of  you  have  such  incidents  and  obser- 
vations of  unwritten  history,  let  it  now  be  divulged,  or  forever 
be  cast  into  oblivion.” 

Thereupon  the  pipe  of  peace  was  passed  around  the  camp- 
fire of  plenty.  When  the  44  boys”  were  all  settled,  Rev.  A. 
R.  Thain,  a private  of  the  96th  Illinois  Infantry,  remembered 
an  anecdote,  and  said: 

44 1 think  of  one  incident  that  occurred  in  our  camp  of  in- 
struction at  Rockford,  111.,  but,  for  the  benefit  of  our  visitors  I 
will  give  what  comes  to  my  mind  of  our  first  experience  in 
war,  before  I relate  it. 

44  Our  country  knew  very  little  about  war  when  the  Civil 
War  broke  out,  and  the  task  of  forming  an  army  from  raw 
recruits,  many  of  whom  had  never  seen  a soldier,  was  great 
indeed.  Our  only  consolation  in  those  days  was  that  our 
antagonists  were  in  somewhat  the  same  condition  of  igno- 
rance. And  yet  we  did  possess  one  advantage  over  them ; we 
knew  that  we  were  ignorant  of  the  art  of  war,  while  many  of 
them  thought  themselves  thoroughly  proficient.  Each  South- 
erner was  ready  to  meet  as  many  4 Yankees’  as  he  had  fin- 
gers and  toes,  doubtless  imagining  himself  the  eldest  son  of 
Mars.  I remember  reading  the  statement  of  one  writer  con- 
cerning the  Confederate  Army  in  its  first  organization;  that 
4 every  man  brought  a colored  servant  with  him  to  stand  guard, 
or  relieve  his  master  of  fatigue  duty;’  that  4 every  amateur 
officer  had  his  own  pet  system  of  tactics,  and  the  effect  of  the 
incongruous  teachings,  when  brought  out  on  battalion  drill, 
closely  resembled  that  of  the  music  of  Bob  Sawyer’s  party, 


20  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

where  each  guest  sang  the  chorus  to  the  tune  he  knew  best.’ 
“ But  in  the  Union  camps  of  instruction,  all  the  boys  who 
were  there  will  remember  how  strictly  the  discipline  was  en- 
forced. The  raw  recruit  was  tied  up  so  tightly  with  red  tape 
that  he  could  hardly  stir  without  an  order  from  headquarters. 
Every  day  he  was  ground  between  the  upper  and  nether 
millstones  of  company  and  battalion  drill,  and  between  times 
was,  perhaps,  sifted  and  bolted  by  squad  drill.  His  slow,  care- 
less gait  had  to  be  transformed  into  a prompt  marching  step. 
His  habit  of  executing  all  movements  in  easy  curves  must  be 
corrected,  his  muscles  must  have  a certain  jumping-jack  jerki- 
ness,  his  frame  a ramrod  uprightness,  chest  thrown  back,  eyes 
to  the  front,  little  fingers  at  the  seams  of  the  pants;  must  learn 
which  was  his  left  foot,  and  for  some  this  was  very  diffi- 
cult, for  I know  one  man  who  was  sent  home  from  the  camp 
of  instruction  because  he  could  not  master  the  mysteries  of 
4 hay-foot,  straw-foot.’ 

44  But,  perhaps,  one  of  the  most  difficult  things  for  the  new 
~oldier  to  appreciate  and  do,  was  the  performance  of  guard 
duty — camp-guard  in  the  home  camp.  It  might  do  well 
enough  in  the  daytime,  to  keep  citizens  out  and  soldiers  in, 
and  impress  visitors  with  the  pomp  and  pageantry  of  war;  but 
at  night,  when  the  soldiers  were  sleeping  on  the  soft  side  of  a 
pine  board  and  dreaming  of  the  beds  they  had  left  behind 
them,  what  necessity  was  there,  military  or  otherwise,  for 
posting  men  all  around  the  camp  at  intervals  of  ten  or  fifteen 
rods? 

44  The  camp  of  instruction  at  Rockford  was  bounded  on  one 
side  by  the  Rock  River,  but  I suppose  if  the  camp  had  been  on 
an  island  it  would  have  been  surrounded  by  guards,  if  for 
nothing  else  than  to  keep  the  river  from  creeping  out  of  its 
bed,  or  the  frogs  from  jumping  across  the  guard  line.  At 
first,  the  men  who  stood  camp  guard  adopted  a somewhat 
novel,  but  certainly  very  noisy  way  of  relieving  the  tedium  of 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


21 


the  night  watches.  If  Mr.  Darwin  had  been  present  he 
might  have  said  that  it  was  a recurrence  of  ancient  practices 
in  the  line  of  man’s  descent,  for  each  guard  adopted  the  cry 
of  some  beast  or  bird,  and  made  the  night  hideous  with  imi- 
tations. From  Post  No.  io  would  come  the  crow  of  a cock; 
Post  No.  12  would  answer  with  the  headlong,  heels-over- 
head  gobble  of  a turkey;  Post  No.  15  seemed  to  be  held  by  a 
dog,  and  from  Post  No.  20  would  come  the  stridulous  hee- 
haw of  a donkey.  And  this  was  practiced  in  many  camps 
throughout  the  war.  Close  imitations  were  greeted  with 
great  applause.  The  most  famous  man  in  our  line  of  bar- 
racks was  a private  in  Company  D,  96th  Illinois,  who  could 
imitate  the  cry  of  a turkey  so  closely  that  the  listener  involun- 
tarily thought  of  Thanksgiving.  The  sequel  showed,  how- 
ever, that  he  could  gobble  better  than  he  could  fight. 

“ In  the  camp  of  instruction  we  also  learned  to  forage.  It 
was  wrong,  of  course,  to  practice  on  friends,  but  the  soldier’s 
stomach  sometimes  got  the  better  of  his  conscience.  One 
ludicrous  incident  occurred.  A farmer  came  into  camp  with 
a load  of  watermelons,  and  a crowd  of  soldiers  gathered 
around  his  wagon,  as  if  eager  to  purchase  his  wet  goods.  One 
soldier  selected  a melon  and  began  to  bargain  very  earnestly 
for  it,  gradually  drawing  the  farmer  a few  steps  further  away 
from  the  wagon.  He  told  the  farmer  that  he  and  his  com- 
rades had  left  their  ancestral  melon-patches  to  go  and  fight  the 
battles  for  the  Union;  that  Uncle  Sam  did  not  pay  them  very 
liberal  wages;  that  as  yet  they  had  received  no  pay,  but  that 
they  were  fond  of  melons,  and  he  wanted  to  know  what  was 
the  lowest  price  which  he  would  take  for  the  particular  melon 
which  he  held  in  his  hands.  He  argued  very  pathetically  for 
a low  price.  Being  patriotic,  the  farmer  sold  it  for  a few 
cents,  and  after  some  delay  in  making  change,  turned  toward 
the  wagon  to  supply  the  other  customers.  But  sad  to  tell,  his 
wagon  was  empty,  and  not  a melon  was  in  sight.  Bringing 


22 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


eatables  into  the  locality  was  like  pouring  water  on  a sand 
heap.  With  a disgusted  look,  the  farmer  tried  to  get  a last 
glimpse  of  one  of  his  melons,  at  least,  but  it  was  in  vain,  and 
he  mounted  his  wagon,  remarking:  4 Guess  I’d  better  git 

my  wagon  out  o’  here  pretty  soon,  or  you’ll  eat  that.’  He 
left  the  camp  soon  after  with  an  empty  wagon,  a flat  pocket- 
book,  and  a rather  low  opinion  of  camp  morals.” 

When  Mr.  Thain  had  finished,  Mr.  Wm.  Tasker,  Chaplain 
of  an  Illinois  Infantry  Regiment,  began: 

44  That  reminds  me  of  one  that  occurred  in  Northern  Mis- 
souri, in  a swamp  called  Mud  Creek.  It  was  the  first  guard 
for  many  of  the  boys  after  leaving  the  camp  of  instruction, 
and  it  was  hard  for  some  of  them  to  accustom  themselves  to 
the  loneliness  of  sentinel  duty.  It  was  especially  hard  for 
one  young  fellow,  I remember,  who  had  never  been  from 
home  very  much,  and  already  began  to  be  homesick.  His 
post  was  in  a thicket  of  undergrowth  from  which  the  large 
trees  had  been  cut,  and  it  was  his  first  night  on  guard.  It  had 
been  raining  all  the  afternoon,  and  by  eighf  o’clock  in  the 
evening  the  usual  catnp-life  was  hushed,  and  all  was  quiet. 
The  night  was  very  dark,  and  the  rain  still  poured  down — 
one  of  those  dreary,  drizzly,  dismal  times  so  unwelcome  to  a 
homesick  soldier — in  fact,  the  place  and  time  could  only  be 
duplicated  by  the  dreariness  of  a Missouri  thicket  on  a rainy 
night. 

44  The  lad  paced  his  weary  beat  to  and  fro,  to  and  fro,  all 
the  evening.  Nine  o’clock  came,  and  the  stillness  became  op- 
pressive. Ten  o’clock  came;  still  nothing  could  be  heard  ex- 
cept the  monotonous  patter  of  the  rain.  Eleven  o’clock; 
twelve  o’clock;  all  was  quiet.  The  sentinel  walked  up  and 
down  again.  Then  he  sat  down.  Nothing  would  break  the 
silence.  He  thought  of  home.  Then  a tear  trickled  down 
his  cheek.  To  clear  it  away  he  began  to  sing: 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


23 


ili  How  tedious  and  tasteless  the  hours 
When  Jesus  no  longer  I see; 

Sweet  prospects,  sweet  birds,  and  sweet  flowers 
Have  all  lost  their  sweetness  to  me.’ 

“Just  then  the  officer  of  the  guard,  a gruff,  irreverent  speci- 
men, came  around,  heard  the  music,  and  thought  to  have  a 
little  sport.  Creeping  quietly  up,  he  suddenly  raised  to  his 
feet  within  a few  steps  of  the  startled  soldier.  The  music 
ceased. 

“ ‘ Halt!’  the  sentinel  commanded.  ‘ Who  goes  there?’ 

“ Placing  his  hands  up  to  his  mouth  for  a trumpet,  the 
officer  loudly  whispered,  ‘Jeff  Dams! ' 

“‘Oh!  I thought  it  was  the  Second  Relief,’  said  the 
soldier.” 

Then  Mr.  Svanson  John  Petersen,  of  De  Grace’s  Twenty- 
Pound  Paragon  Battery,  Company  H,  First  111.  Light  Artil- 
lery of  the  United  States  of  America  Volunteers,  arose.  He 
began  with  his  favorite  tribute  to  Gen.  W.  T.  Sherman,  and 
was  not  alone  in  his  admiration  of  the  great  chieftain;  but  the 
boys  had  heard  his  story  before,  and  knew  its  length.  The 
fire  burned  low,  many  of  the  soldiers  had  been  doing  fatigue 
duty  during  the  day,  some  of  them  had  mixed  their  coffee 
with  a stronger  beverage  during  the  evening,  and  the  major- 
ity longed  for  the  bunk.  Mr.  Petersen  continued: 

“ It  vas  de  march  vrom  Savannah  to  Raleigh.  De  camp 
vas  lade  at  night,  und  dere  vas  early  rizing  all  de  time.  De 
vedder  vas  bad,  und  de  boys  discourage.  Ven  de  boys  vas 
discourage  dey  vould  cuss  de  offisairs.  Ve  vas  cussin’  Sher- 
man und  de  offisairs,  ven  ve  vas  riding  along  von  day,  because 
de  war  vas  too  long.  Ve  vas  vith  de  third  gun,  und  I vas 
de  lead  driver.  De  second  driver  he  say  to  me,  ‘Keep  still,’ 
all  at  once. 

“Preddy  zoon  Sherman  und  his  shtaff  files  along  up  de 
rear.  Sherman  says, c Vat’s  de  matter?’ 


IX 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


444  Ve  are  tired  oud,’  ve  zay. 

44  Den  Sherman  vas  very  polite.  De  soldiers  are  von  by 
his  expression.  He  say : 4 Boys,  it’s  preddy  zoon  over.  I 

know  it’s  hard,  but  a little  longer  ve’ll  be  home — ve  are  on 
our  vay  home!’  If  he  had  been  a captain  he  vould  svear  at 
us.  It  vas  very.,. sad.” 

44 Is  that  the  end?”  asked  the  Society  for  the  Preservation 
of  Unpublished  History. 

44  Veil,  I haf  anudder  von,”  said  Mr.  Petersen. 

44  We  will  hear  that  another  time,”  said  the  society.  On 
looking  around  it  was  discovered  that  there  were  a great 
many  dry  eyes  in  the  audience  after  this  sad  story.  In  fact, 
all  eyes  were  dry,  and  there  emanated  from  the  various  breath- 
ing apparatuses  sounds  indicative  of  weariness.  The  god 
Morpheus  had  weighed  their  eyelids  down;  upon  beholding 
which  the  society  beckoned  Mr.  Petersen  to  be  seated.  In 
course  of  half  an  hour  the  soldiers  began  to  leave  camp,  one 
at  a time,  each  quietly  departing  after  he  shook  off  his  drowsi- 
ness, and  feeling  too  much  victimized  to  arouse  his  fellow* 
slumberers. 


CAMP-FIRE  II. 


HOW  A BALKY  HORSE  DID  NOT  SURRENDER THE  EXECU- 
TION OF  DESERTERS A PENSION  FOR  A PIN-SCRATCH, 

HEN  the  veterans  convened  on  the  following  even- 
ing, some  one  soberly  alluded  to  the  discourtesy  of 
the  previous  meeting  in  withdrawing  from  the 
camp-fire  so  unceremoniously.  With  great  humiliation 
the  guilty  each  made  a low  bow,  and  assured  the  others 
that  nothing  but  the  best  intention — which  has  excused  far 
greater  crimes — had  possessed  them ; that  they  had  quietly 
withdrawn  that  they  might  leave  their  weary  comrades  to 
the  full  enjoyment  of  unbroken  slumber.  This  explanation 
being  accepted,  Mr.  Joseph  Dewey,  of  the  7th  Iowa  Cavalry, 
Company  C,  said: 

“ Let  me  relate  the  glorious  tradition  of  how  a balky  horse 
saved  the  life  of  Captain  Bartlett.  It  was  just  before  the  capture 
of  Memphis,  and  our  boys  were  returning  from  a three-days’ 
raid.  We  had  come  in  sight  of  what  we  thought  were  two 
regiments  of  Federal  infantry,  and  wheeled  about  to  join 
them.  But  when  we  were  within  a few  rods  of  the  supposed 
Federals,  we  suddenly  discovered  that  they  were  about  two 
thousand  ‘Johnnies’  in  blue  coats. 

a Captain  Bartlett  had  a very  remarkable  horse.  He  was  a 
dark  bay,  bob-tail,  straight  neck,  and  short  ears.  This  horse 
always  held  his  head  about  twenty-nine  degrees  higher  than 
the  heads  of  his  fellows,  probably  from  his  sense  of  pride. 
But  with  all  his  imperfections  he  was  not  blind.  I have  never 
known  of  a blind  horse  that  was  balky.  Jehu — that  was  his 

*5 


26 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


name — had  two  good  I’s,  one  for  intelligence,  the  other  for 
indolence.  However,  he  rarely  used  both  at  the  same  time. 
He  would  glance  backward  with  the  eye  of  intelligence  to 
see  what  was  going  on  in  the  rear,  and  then,  all  of  a sudden, 
he  could  see  nothing  more  except  through  the  indolence  eye. 
Yet  withal,  this  noble  animal  was  trustworthy — you  could  al- 
ways trust  him  to  eat  a peck  of  oats  and  call  for  more ; and  he 
was  equally  reliable  for  standing  still  when  there  was  too 
much  weight  on  his  back. 

“ Upon  discovering  the  true  character  of  the  blue-coated 
infantry,  the  cavalry  wheeled  again,  and  were  off.  Jehu 
stopped.  He  had  become  tired  of  horse  society.  He  desired 
solitude.  The  captain  whipped  and  spurred,  all  to  no  pur- 
pose. Then  the  Confederates  opened  fire,  and  it  began  to  be 
uncomfortable  for  Jehu,  though  no  damage  was  done.  Then 
another  volley  came,  and  Jehu  at  once  concluded  to  join  the 
enemy.  To  carry  out  this  determination,  he  turned  his  head 
to  the  left,  stiffened  his  neck,  and  darted  off  in  a 2:40  gait, 
side-wise,  to  the  right.  This  brought  him  into  the  midst  of 
the  enemy,  who  yelled  to  the  captain:  ‘Surrender!  sur- 

render! You  Yankee  s — o — b — !’  ” 

[This  military  term  may  need  some  explanation.  It  origi- 
nated with  the  Confederates  early  in  the  war,  and  was  an  ap- 
pellation given  to  all  soldiers  of  the  Union  Army,  from  what- 
ever point  they  hailed.  In  civil  life  it  became  shortened  to 
“ Yankee  sob”  but  here  it  is  used  in  its  strictest  hostile  sense.] 
“ But  no  surrender  for  Jehu.  The  enemy’s  ranks  parted  and 
let  him  through,  but  the  firing  continued,  and  still  was  heard: 
“‘Surrender!  surrender!  you  Yankees — o—  b — !’ 

“ ‘ How  in  thunder  can  I surrender,’  answered  the  captain, 
still  borne  through  the  ranks  on  the  back  of  the  horse.  4 1 
will  if  you’ll  stop  my  horse.’  Several  shots  were  fired,  but 
strange  to  say,  Jehu  made  good  his  escape  without  a scratch 
to  himself  or  the  captain,  amidst  great  applause.” 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  2 7 

Mr.  H.  P.  Thompson,  Orderly  Sergeant  of  Company  H, 
49th  New  York,  and  later  in  charge  of  the  provost  guard, 
then  asked  if  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  would  like  to  hear  concerning 
the  execution  of  two  deserters. 

“ Yes,’’  said  their  representative;  “give  us  a description  of 
how  deserters  were  executed.” 

“ Well,  I remember  what  I am  going  to  tell  as  well  as  if 
it  happened  only  yesterday.  The  prominent  part  I bore  in 
the  sad  affair  fixed  it  indelibly  on  my  mind. 

“ It  was  near  Brandy  Station,  Va.,  on  the  3d  of  December, 
1863.  Desertions  were  becoming  too  frequent,  and  some- 
thing had  to  be  done  to  stop  the  disloyalty.  Seventeen  desert- 
ers had  been  tried  and  sentenced  at  this  time;  but  fifteen  were 
pardoned  by  the  general  proclamation  of  President  Lincoln, 
pardoning  all  deserters  who  would  return  and  take  their 
places  in  the  ranks.  The  two  who  were  not  pardoned  were 
George  Blowers,  of  Company  A,  2d  Vermont,  and  John 
Tague,  Company  A,  5th  Vermont.  There  were  a great  many 
trials  for  desertion  during  the  war,  but  deserters  were  seldom 
executed;  they  usually  received  a lighter  sentence.  The 
most  general  sentence  was  that  the  deserter  should  return  to 
the  army  and  serve  out  all  of  his  original  time  of  enlistment 
which  had  not  been  served,  without  pay  or  allowance.  For 
instance,  if  a soldier  who  had  enlisted  for  four  years  had 
deserted  at  the  end  of  six  months,  he  would  be  brought  back 
when  caught,  and  be  compelled  to  serve  three  years  and 
six  months  more.  This  was  the  penalty,  except  in  flagrant 
cases. 

“ Some  were  sent  to  Dry  Tortugas,  which  was  almost 
equivalent  to  banishment.  Dry  Tortugas  is  a group  of 
islands  belonging  to  the  United  States,  at  the  entrance  of 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  120  miles  west  southwest  of  Cape 
Sable,  the  southern  extremity  of  Florida.  The  islands  are 
very  low  and  swampy,  partly  covered  with  mangrove 


28 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


bushes,  which  is  a species  of  tropical  fruit  resembling  the 
paw  paw  and  banana.  It  was  a dismal  place,  and  deserters 
were  compelled  to  serve  out  a term  of  years  with  ball  and 
chain,  the  same  as  other  prisoners. 

“ Occasionally  there  was  a man  hung;  but  Tague  and 
Blowers  were  to  be  shot.  The  provost  marshal  of  the  county 
or  locality  where  they  were  caught  had  returned  them,  as 
was  the  custom,  to  their  regiment,  and  drawn  his  bounty, 
which  was  a reward  of  $50  apiece  (I  believe),  offered  by  the 
State  in  which  they  were  found. 

“ The  court-martial  then  tried  and  sentenced  them,  and 
they  were  placed  in  tents  by  themselves  in  charge  of  the  pro- 
vost guard,  which  was  chosen  pro  rata  from  the  different 
regiments  of  a division.  The  guard  in  this  instance  was  a 
detail  of  twenty  men  chosen  from  the  regular  provost  guard. 
When  a deserter  was  put  under  guard,  two  or  three  of  these 
men  would  stand  with  loaded  muskets  around  the  tent  of  the 
deserter,  being  relieved  every  two  hours.  No  soldier  was 
ever  made  to  stand  guard  over  a deserter  from  his  own  com- 
pany or  regiment,  for,  of  course,  it  was  always  painful  for 
one  comrade  to  be  compelled  to  enforce  a severe  law  upon  a 
fellow  comrade,  and  possibly  a schoolmate,  or  even  a brother, 
and  then  there  was  danger  of  a plot  to  escape  if  an  intimacy 
of  this  kind  were  allowed.  So  these  two  boys  from  Vermont 
were  handed  over  to  our  regiment,  the  49th  New  York. 

“ It  was  a beautiful  morning.  The  sky  was  clear,  the  sun 
shone  brightly,  the  air  was  soft  and  still,  and  two  ambu- 
lances, containing  rough  wooden  coffins,  were  brought  up  to 
the  tents  where  the  prisoners  were  under  guard.  Each 
soldier  was  then  placed  in  an  ambulance,  on  his  coffin,  and 
the  retinue  proceeded  to  the  place  of  execution,  about  a 
mile  from  the  headquarters  of  the  guard.  The  ambulances 
were  drawn  this  distance  by  the  soldiers  who  were  to  do 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


39 


the  shooting.  When  they  arrived  at  the  chosen  place,  the 
division,  composed  of  about  ten  thousand  soldiers,  was  formed 
into  a hollow  square  to  witness  the  sad  affair.  A hollow 
square  is  a double  line  of  soldiers  on  three  sides  of  a square, 
fronting  the  fourth  side,  which  is  left  open,  as  the  objective 
point  of  operations.  It  was  used  on  this  occasion  for  an  im- 
posing display,  and  to  intimidate  and  prevent  other  soldiers 
present  from  committing  a like  crime. 

“ It  was  a scene  full  of  awe,  never  to  be  forgotten  by  those 
who  took  part.  All  who  witnessed  it  seemed  to  feel  the 
solemn  presence  of  death.  When  the  coffins  were  placed  in 
the  open  part  of  the  square,  John  Tague  attempted  to  be 
jovial  by  rapping  in  the  bottom  of  his  coffin  and  asking  some 
of  the  boys  if  they  could  not  put  shavings  or  something 
in  it,  as  it  would  be  a pretty  hard  nest;  but  no  applause 
greeted  his  remark,  and  it  reacted  upon  him  with  solemn 
force.  The  adjutant  general  then  stepped  out  into  a position 
a little  forward  from  the  center  of  the  square,  and  in  a clear, 
but  tremulous  voice,  read  the  finding  of  the  court-martial  to 
the  troops.  The  guns  used  by  the  provost  guard  on  occasions 
like  this  were  always  loaded  by  a person  appointed  for  the  pur- 
pose. It  would  not  do  to  let  soldiers  load  their  own  guns,  as 
they  would  probably  put  in  blank  cartridges.  The  feeling  of 
responsibility  for  a death  was  too  intense  in  such  cases.  How- 
ever, one  blank  cartridge  was  always  put  into  one  of  the 
guns,  so  that  each  of  the  men  who  did  the  shooting  might 
suppose  that  he  had  the  blank,  and  that  his  shot  did  not  kill 
the  prisoner. 

“When  the  adjutant  finished  reading,  the  guard  was 
ordered  forward,  divided  into  two  platoons  of  ten  each,  and 
the  guns  were  handed  to  them.  As  I have  said,  I shall 
never  forget  this  particular  moment.  I had  charge  of  one  of 
the  platoons,  and  the  orders  were  that  the  man  having  such 
charge  should  step  up  with  a loaded  musket  and  blow  out  the 


3<> 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


brains  of  the  victim  in  case  the  volley  discharged  at  him  by 
the  platoon  failed  to  kill!  I held  my  musket  ready  in  my 
hand,  and  was  to  shoot  John  Tague.  The  other  platoon  was 
in  charge  of  Sergeant  Otis  B.  Hayes.  He  was  a man  of 
strong  nerve  and  moral  courage,  but  at  this  time  he  was  as 
pale  as  death  and  as  weak  as  a child;  in  fact,  he  could  hardly 
stand.  He  was  to  end  the  life  of  George  Blowers,  if  the  ten 
shots  from  his  platoon  failed. 

“ While  the  finding  of  the  court-martial  was  being  read 
by  the  adjutant,  the  doomed  men  stood  up.  But  they  were 
now  ordered  to  kneel  on  their  coffins.  A quarter-sheet  of 
ordinary  note  paper — called  by  the  boys  a ; paper  heart  ’ — 
was  then  pinned  on  the  coat  of  each  victim,  over  his  heart. 
When  this  was  done,  there  was  an  awful  silence.  The 
doomed  boys  had  not  been  blindfolded,  and  each  countenance, 
though  brave  to  the  last,  betrayed  the  solemn  consciousness 
that  within  a minute  more  they  would  be  within  the  pale  of 
death.  All  was  suspense.  Clapping  his  hands  to  his  heart, 
John  Tague  said,  c Boys,  shoot  me  here — make  no  mis- 
take!’ Then  came  the  final  order  from  the  provost  marshal: 
“c  Ready!  Aim!  Fire!’ 

“ Tague  fell  forward  on  his  face  and  never  breathed  again; 
but  Blowers  was  horribly  mangled,  and  fell  forward  on  his 
hands  and  knees,  exclaiming : 

“ c Oh ! my  God — my  God ! ’ 

“ Sergeant  Hayes  trembled  like  an  aspen.  He  was  to  end 
the  poor  fellow’s  existence!  He  advanced  toward  the  spot, 
while  ten  thousand  soldiers  held  their  hushed  breath.  But, 
to  the  relief  of  all,  Blowers  died  before  the  Sergeant  reached 
him ; and  the  troops  formed  company  front,  and  marched  in 
review  past  the  coffins  to  view  the  bodies  of  their  dead 
comrades.” 

“ That  is  true  to  the  letter,  and  well  given,”  said  Andrew 
W.  B razee,  late  major  of  the  49th  New  York.  u I was  the 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


31 

provost  marshal  who  gave  the  order,1 'and  remember  it  well.” 

A general  from  Ohio,  who  had  charge  of  a brigade,  then 
gave  this  incident  to  illustrate  the  eagerness  with  which  a 
certain  element  in  our  army  sought  redress  from  the  govern- 
ment for  injuries  sustained,  even  before  the  pain  of  a hurt  had 
subsided;  in  fact,  an  injury  was  hardly  received  before  they 
began  to  weigh,  in  their  minds,  the  amount  of  annuity  to 
which  they  would  be  entitled. 

“ A Dutchman  had  been  detailed  as  an  orderly  on  duty  at 
the  general’s  headquarters,  and  in  an  engagement  was  unfortu- 
nate enough  to  have  the  index  and  second  finger  of  his  right 
hand  shot  off.  He  was  running  to  and  fro  across  the  battle 
field  when  he  met  the  general,  and,  with  tears  rolling  down 
his  cheeks,  he  exclaimed,  c Oh,  Sheneral,  Sheneral,  shoost  look 
at  my  hand.’  The  general,  after  expressing  sorrow  and  sym- 
pathy, was  about  to  move  on,  when  the  man  again  turned  his 
tearful  face  toward  him,  and,  holding  up  his  bleeding  hand,  in 
pitiful  tones  cried  out: 

“ 4 Oh,  Sheneral!  Sheneral!  how  much  pension  I gets  for 
him?  Don’t  you  tink  I would  get  two  pensions,  one  for  each 
finger  what  I lose?’  ” 

This  story  was  considered  a good  one  to  close  with,  antf 
the  second  camp-fire  was  dismissed. 


CAMP-FIRE  III. 


THE  MADDEST  MAN  IN  THE  ARMY A REGIMENTAL  FOOT 

RACE EFFECTS  OF  EXCITEMENT 44  BRESS  DE  LOR’.” 

OYS,  do  you  recollect  the  race  between  our  regiment 
and  the  2d  Iowa?’  said  Mose  Huntley,  of  the  52d  Illinois. 
44  Yes,”  said  Mr.  Kessler,  a First  Lieutenant  of  one 
of  the  companies,  44  it  was  just  before  the  battle  of  Corinth, 
and  I remember  about  that  time  of  seeing  the  maddest  man 
I ever  saw  in  my  life.  He  belonged  to  our  company,  and  was 
a fine  soldier,  patriotic  and  courageous,  but  impetuous.  His 
name  was  Peterson,  I believe,  a strong,  burly  Swede. 

44  The  rebel  Forrest  had  just  made  an  audacious  raid  near 
us.  Peterson  could  stand  it  to  fight  an  honest  soldier  in  the 
front,  but  when  he  thought  of  being  hoodwinked. by  a treach- 
erous guerilla,  he  almost  tore  his  hair.  We  were  ordered  out 
immediately  after  Forrest,  and  pursued  him  all  night.  Just 
before  daybreak  we  were  passing  through  a low  wooded 
land,  and  thought  we  heard  the  noise  of  the  enemy  in  our  ad- 
vance. Peterson  broke  into  a run,  thinking  he  would  get 
a shot  at  4 dem  kersud  gareelahs.’  But  alas ! just  as  he 
started  to  run  a vine  tripped  him,  and  he  fell  forward  against 
a sapling  of  two  or  three  years’  growth.  His  rage  was  un- 
controllable. Swearing  a chain  of  oaths,  and  clenching  his 
musket  with  a death-grip,  he  slashed  away  at  the  sapling  with 
the  butt  end,  breaking  the  stock  and  ruining  the  barrel.  But 
this  was  not  enough.  He  grappled  with  the  enemy,  gnawed, 
kicked  and  twisted  until  he  tore  the  tree  up  by  the  roots  and 
flung  it  away.” 


33 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


3d 


“ Ehic!  ’nuther  vict’ry  fur  United  States  arms,”  said  Boozy 
Dick,  who  was  intoxicated  to  a stupefying  degree. 

44  Well,  Mr.  Huntley,  will  you  not  give  us  the  race  now?” 
said  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished  History? 
when  Boozy  Dick  again  essayed  to  exhort: 

<4  Yes,  let  ’em  go,  Mose!  I’ll  bet  on  the — on  the. — hie! — ” 
44  The  Sergeant-at-arms  will  please  assist  the  sick  veteran 
to  retire,”  ordered  the  commander,  and  accordingly  Dick  was 
taken  to  the  guard-house. 

Mose  Huntley  then  proceeded  : 

46  Well,  as  I said  at  starting  out,  it  was  between  our  regi- 
ment (the  52d  Illinois)  and  the  2d  Iowa,  but  Kessler  stopped 
me — ” 

44 1 beg  your  pardon,  Comrade  Huntley,”  said  Mr.  Kessler* 
44  My  pardon  is  beggable,”  replied  Mose,  and  continued: 
44  It  was  about  two  weeks  before  the  battle  of  Corinth. 
We  were  out  on  a forage,  and  came  to  an  old  out-of-the-way 
house,  about  which  weeds  and  bushes  had  grown.  We  heard 
a noise  in  the  house  and  found  six  Rebs  with  one  Yankee 
prisoner,  whom  they  were  trying  to  convert. 

44  4 Humph!’  said  the  Yankee,  4 I’ll  never  join  your  crowd 
as  long  as  the  United  States  has  a flag  and  an  army.  You 
darned  nigger-keepin’  traitors  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  fight 
against  such  a flag  as  mine.  If  I was  loose,  I’d  hang  the 
whole  lot  of  you!’  The  prisoner  had  looked  through  a crack 
and  seen  our  boys  coming,  and  it  made  him  sort  o’  brave.  ‘If 
I wanted  to  I could  call  twelve  legions  to  my  help.’ 

44  4 Ha!  ha!  ha!’  laughed  the  rebs.  4 Why  don’t  you  do 
it?  Do  it — call  ’em.’ 

44  4 Well,  I will  call  a few  of  ’em — come  on,  boys,’  said  the 
Yank,  and  just  then  our  boys  broke  through  the  door  and 
took  the  whole  six  prisoners. 

44  We  tore  everything  up,  and  finally  found  a barrel  of 
whiskey  and  one  of  black -strap.” 

3 


35-  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

[M  Black-strap”  is  a kind  of  syrup  unskilfully  made  from 
frost-bitten  sugar-cane.  It  resembles  a mixture  of  coal-tar, 
glucose  and  stale  soda  water.  Sometimes  it  was  mixed  with 
whiskey,  and  swallowed  with  much  relish  by  soldiers  whose 
stomachs  must  have  been  lined  with  something  like  cast-iron. 
This  chemical  analysis  has  been  obtained  at  great  expense  by 
the  S.  P.  U.  H.,  and  is  known  to  be  correct.] 

44  Near  by  was  an  old  mill,”  continued  Mr.  Huntley,  u and 
strange  to  say,  several  bushels  of  wheat  in  a bin.  We  took 
some  o’  the  wheat  and  put  it  in  the  hopper,  and  some  of  the 
boys  would  grind  while  the  others  watched.  We  ground 
about  a bushel  before  the  wheels  got  hot,  and  then  they  began 
to  screech.  We  had  nothing  but  cotton-seed  oil,  and  that 
gummed  so  that  it  was  no  use  to  put  it  on.  We  ground 
about  six  bushels,  when  the  old  rattle-trap  stopped  short, 
never  to  go  again!  Squee-squawk,  squee-squawk — you 
could  hear  it  for  twenty-five  miles!” 

“ Aw!  come  down  a peg,”  said  one  of  the  boys. 

44  Well,  you  could  hear  it  for  five  miles — I’ll  swear  it,” 
said  Mose. 

44  Then  we  took  the  bran,  whiskey,  and  black-strap,  and 
started  for  camp.  W e did  not  open  either  of  the  barrels,  as 
we  thought  we  would  save  it  all  and  have  a good  time 
with  the  whole  regiment  that  night.  But  alas!  General 
Oglesby  confiscated  our  entire  stock.  He  told  the  teamster 
to  drive  the  ambulance  up  to  his  tent  and  sleep  on  those  bar- 
rels that  night.  The  general  was  all  right  in  this,  because  he 
had  just  chased  the  Rebel  general,  Rowdy,  off  fifty  miles  that 
day,  and  expected  him  back  that  night.  He  ordered  the 
brigade  to  lie  on  their  arms  in  line,  for  an  emergency. 

44  We  wrapped  ourselves  in  our  blankets  and  lay  down — 
but  not  to  sleep.  The  news  of  the  whiskey  had  been  circu- 
lated among  the  boys,  and  made  ’em  restless.  They  rolled 
up  in  their  blankets  and  began  to  * spoon!5  55 


raw  crio 


36  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

44  What  is  ‘spooning’?”  asked  the  Society  for  the  Pres- 
ervation of  Unpublished  History. 

44  4 Spoonin,’  my  dear  children,”  explained  a veteran  in 
the  art,  44  is  when  soldiers  wrap  up  in  their  blankets  and  roll 
back’ards  and  for’ards  over  one  ’nother  for  fun.  It  is  done 
when  they  have  too  much  4 budge  ’ aboard.  But  this  time 
they  were  only  anticipatin’,  and  sort  o’  goin’  through  the 
motions  like.  They  hadnrt  had  anythin’  to  drink,  an’  so  it  was 
purty  dry  spoonin’. 

44  It  was  io  o’clock  and  the  Rebel  general,  Rowdy  ? 
hadn’t  come  yet.  The  boys  didn’t  like  the  idea  o’  being 
cheated  out  of  their  4 regular,’  and  so  they  ’pointed  a com- 
mission to  look  after  them  barrels  of  General  Oglesby’s. 
The  commission  crawled  up  quietly  to  the  wagon,  and 
enough  of  the  boys  formed  a line  on  their  knees  to  pass  the 
canteens  back  from  the  wagon  to  the  bivouac,  so  that  no 
noise  would  be  made.  It  was  not  long  before  the  commis- 
sion got  an  auger  an’  commenced  to  bore  through  the  bot- 
tom of  the  wagon  up  into  the  barrels.  The  first  barrel  they 
bored  into  was  the  black-strap,  but  they  plugged  that  up,  and 
it  did  not  take  long  to  get  the  whiskey  out  of  the  other  one. 
The  canteens  were  passed  back,  and  the  boys  had  a good  old 
‘spoon,’  never  waking  the  driver,  who  slept  on  the  barrels. 

44  In  the  morning  the  officers  thought  they  would  sample 
the  whiskey,  and  sent  to  the  wagon  for  some.  But  of  course 
the  boys  had  emptied  the  barrel,  and  when  it  was  reported 
to  General  Oglesby,  he  came  out,  called  the  boys  together,  and 
asked : 

44  4 Who  in  (Hades)  stole  that  whiskey?  ’ 

44  4 The  2d  and  7th  Iowa!’  said  our  boys. 

44  4 No,  sir!  the  52d  Illinois,’  said  the  Iowa  boys. 

Ujust  then  General  Sweeney  (then  our  Colonel)  came 
out,  and  he  looked  awfully  dry  and  disappointed.  4 Who  stole 
that  whiskey?  ’ he  inquired. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  37 

“ ‘ The  2d  and  7th  Iowa ! ’ we  answered,  and  the  Iowa 
boys  again  said  we  did  it. 

“‘By  the  powers!  I’ll  arrest  every  one  of  you,’  said 
Sweeney. 

“ But  he  didn’t.  When  it  comes  to  arrestin’  two  or  three 
regiments  o’  soldiers,  it’s  not  easily  done.  Then  we  were  sud- 
denly ordered  to  Corinth  on  double-quick,  to  resist  an  attack 
by  the  Johnnies.  The  sun  was  hot,  and  the  air  sultry.  The 
march  was  heavy,  and  we  double-quicked  it  every  step.  As 
we  proceeded,  some  of  the  boys  became  so  worn-out  that 
they  dropped  out,  and  lay  down  on  the  roadside.  Some 
were  sunstruck,  and  many  were  disabled  for  life,  who  are 
drawing  pensions  now  for  that  very  march.  Before  we  got 
to  Corinth,  it  was  told  among  the  boys  that  General  Weaver 
(then  Colonel  of  the  2d  Iowa)  had  bet  General  Sweeney 
$500  that  the  2d  Iowa  could  beat  the  52d  Illinois  to  Corinth. 
This  nerved  the  boys  up,  and  the  ranks  kept  thinning  out. 
I think  there  were  some  deaths  reported  from  fatigue.  When 
we  got  to  Corinth  in  the  evening  there  were  only  sixteen  of 
our  company  to  report — the  rest  had  dropped  on  the  way. 
Our  company  was  the  first  to  get  in,  but  I never  wanted  any 
more  races  in  mine. 

“ There  were  no  rebels  there,  nor  any  signs  of  any.  The 
boys  said  the  race  was  on  account  of  the  bet,  but  I thought  it 
was  to  punish  us  for  stealing  the  whiskey.” 

“All  that  might  have  been  avoided,”  said  Capt.  J.  M. 
Shields,  of  Company  F,  77th  Illinois,  “but  let  me  remind 
you  of  something  that  could  not  have  been  avoided — a curious 
result  which  was  the  experience  of  almost  every  soldier  in 
the  war,  and  shows  how  various  are  the  effects  of  excitement 
under  fire,  upon  different  temperaments. 

“We  were  ordered  to  the  extreme  right  in  the  battle  of 
Chickasaw  Bluffs,  which  placed  us  on  the  bank  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi. It  was  necessary  to  skirmish  our  way  along,  and 


38  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

before  we  arrived  there,  serious  trouble  occurred.  We  had 
never  been  in  an  engagement,  and  none  of  us  knew  whether 
we  could  stand  fire  or  not.  Troops  could  never  be  de- 
pended upon  the  first  time,  though  they  generally  came 
through  all  right. 

“ Our  way  was  through  a wooded  country,  and  as  usual 
in  skirmishing,  the  orders  were  for  every  fellow  to  look  out 
for  himself.  We  pushed  on  in  our  irregular  line  for  several 
hundred  yards,  the  boys  becoming  more  and  more  scattered. 
They  realized  now,  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives  that  they 
were  to  be  shot  at.  Some  were  eager  and  almost  rash  in 
their  recklessness  to  push  forward  and  get  a shot  at  the  rebs. 
At  times  they  would  be  so  far  in  advance  that  they  would 
have  to  be  ordered  back.  Others  advanced  in  mortal  fear, 
though  they  were  patriotic  and  sincere  enough,  and  made 
good  soldiers  afterward.  But  the  terror  and  excitement  that 
seized  numbers  of  them,  made  them  almost  powerless  to  act, 
for  they  would  lose  all  control  of  their  nerves,  and  it  is  a sin- 
gular but  well-established  fact,  that  under  such  circumstances 
the  bowels  are  the  first  portion  of  the  human  system  to  feel 
this  prostration  of  the  nerves.” 

Hundreds  of  soldiers  in  our  civil  war  became  deathly  sick 
under  their  first  fire,  though  through  no  cowardice  of  their 
own. 

“ As  we  went  on,  the  woods  became  thicker,  and  the  fir- 
ing sharper.  The  excitement  grew  greater,  and  then  the 
trouble  began.  Fully  five  hundred  of  our  regiment  were 
seized  with  the  complaint,  and  affairs  grew  serious  indeed. 
Among  them  was  one  poor  fellow  whom  I shall  never  for- 
get. He  had  kept  well  to  the  rear  all  along,  but  I cheered 
him  up,  pushed  him  ahead,  and  managed  to  keep  him  in  the 
company. 

“ Presently  we  came  out  in  a turnip  patch,  and  when  we 
were  well  in  view,  the  rebs  poured  a volley  into  us.  This 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


39 


was  the  climax.  The  bullets  rattled  and  stirred  the  dust 
about  our  feet,  yet  no  one  was  hurt.  But  the  panic  was  upon 
us,  and  it  was  not  possible  to  hold  the  weakest.  One  or  two 
of  the  boys  rushed  forward  and  gained  the  shelter  of  a fence 
beyond,  but  the  rest  rapidly  retreated. 

“ I went  back  with  the  company,  and  in  the  rear  found 
the  young  man  I had  aided.  He  was  lying  on  the  ground, 
deathly  pale,  writhing  in  supposed  pain,  and  was  so  weak 
that  he  could  not  stand.  I ordered  him  to  get  up  and  advance 
immediately,  knowing  that  with  one  strong  effort  he  would 
regain  his  courage.  But  he  was  in  a sad  state,  and  with  his 
arms  tightly  pressed  about  his  stomach,  he  pleaded  : c Oh!  my 
God,  my  God!  captain,  do,  do  let  me  stop  here.  Oh!  I am  so 
sick — oh! — oh!’ 

“ I could  only  pity  the  poor  boy,  and  so  I let  him  remain 
until  he  recovered.  Yet  he  was  only  one  of  many  who  passed 
through  the  same  experience,  and  afterward  became  the  most 
courageous  soldiers.” 

The  7th  Iowa  was  then  glorified  in  this  manner  by  Mr. 
William  F.  Montgomery: 

“When  Sherman  reached  Columbia,  S.  C.,  300  Union 
officers  were  imprisoned  there.  These  were  liberated  and  the 
city  was  fired.  But  before  this  the  prisoners  were  slurred 
with  all  kinds  of  foul  insults.  Nothing  seemed  too  base  for 
the  home-guards  and  women  to  utter.  They  were  worse 
than  the  women  of  New  Orleans  before  Butler’s  ‘Woman 
Order.’ 

“ But  there  was  one  consolation,  even  though  it  came  in  the 
form  of  ebonized  humanity.  Every  insult  thrown  at  the 
Union  prisoners  only  increased  the  enthusiasm  of  the  negroes. 
Multitudes  of  negro  women  and  children  always  hung  about 
the  army,  and  hailed  the  Union  soldiers  as  their  deliverers. 
They  meant  well  enough,  but  their  sympathy  was  generally 
carried  to  excess,  and  they  became  almost  a general  nuisance, 


4° 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


especially  the  ignorant  and  superstitious  field  hands.  It  was 
a strain  on  moral  courage  to  endure  the  majority  of  the  negroes 
who  worked  about  the  houses,  but  these  were  infinitely  more 
decent  than  the  field  hands. 

“ In  our  company  was  a little  wiry,  sawed-off  man,  who 
hated  a negro  worse  than  a snake.  When  the  boys  wanted  a 
little  sport  they  would  call  on  Tom  to  Ccuss  the  niggers,’  and 
he  invariably  responded.  He  repeatedly  declared  that,  c if 
the  niggers  is  emancipated  I’ll  leave  the  army.’  But  he  didn’t 
leave.  He  staid  right  along  until  the  climax  was  reached 
at  Columbia.  As  we  marched  up,  the  negroes  swarmed  out 
on  all  sides  to  meet  us.  Among  them  was  an  old  field  hand, 
a big,  stout  wench,  who  would  weigh  over  400  pounds  avoir- 
dupois. Her  cheeks  hung  down,  and  so  did  her  lower  lip, 
which  was  something  near  an  inch  in  thickness,  and  her  hair 
seemed  like  the  tail  of  a horse  that  had  been  feeding  in  a 
cockle-burr  field,  except  that  it  had  the  hereditary  kink  not 
found  in  horse-hair. 

“ The  excitement  among  the  negroes  grew  greater  and 
more  intense,  and  their  eyes  protruded  far  beyond  their  usual 
limit,  as  the  army  came  near.  They  sang,  and  danced,  and 
shouted.  The  big  woman  was  especially  wild.  She  raised 
her  arms,  snorted  like  an  elephant,  and  started  straight  for 
me.  I had  been  in  twenty-two  hard-fought  battles;  had  heard 
the  bullets  sing  past  my  ears,  and  shells  over  my  head;  many 
a time  had  faced  death  in  a thousand  forms,  and  was  in  the 
present  emergency  well  armed;  but  for  once  in  my  life  I beat 
a hasty  retreat.  The  old  negress  gained  on  me,  and  I was 
almost  within  her  reach,  the  ranks  ringing  with  applause, 
when  I stepped  behind  the  wiry  little  nigger-hater,  and  the 
negress  wrapped  her  great  arms  around  him,  lifting  him  off 
his  feet,  and  shouting: 

“‘Bress  de  Lor’!  Bress  de  Lor’!  Yooz  de  ones  we’s 
bin  prayin’  faw  dese  foyeahs!  Lor’  bress  ye,  honey!  I lub 


* KRESS  DE  LOR’ 


42 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


ye — I lub  ye!  Hm — hm — and  she  squeezed  the  little  wiry 
man  the  tighter,  while  the  boys  cheered  louder  than  ever.'* 

Some  of  the  veterans  present  remembered  the  incident, 
and  together  with  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpub- 
lished History,  they  re-echoed  the  applause  of  twenty  years 
ago. 

When  the  auditors  were  quiet  again,  the  commander  said 
that  a drum  corps  from  the  Freedmen’s  Exodus  Society 
would  like  to  favor  the  camp-fire  with  an  attack.  The  camp- 
fire submitted,  and  the  drum  corps  filed  in.  Unfortunately, 
however,  the  man  who  tuned  the  drums  had  died  soon  after 
the  war,  and  the  position  which  he  vacated  had  been  unfilled  up 
to  date,  so  that  the  instruments  were  somewhat  out  of  repair, 
and  somewhat  more  out  of  tune.  Then  the  stifled  ether  was 
stirred  with  rut-tut-tut,  bum-bum ! rut-tut-tut,  bum-bum!  and 
it  was  thought,  from  the  most  scientific  musical  analysis,  that 
the  drum  corps  had  started  out  on  the  appropriate  tune  of 

“ Ain’t  I glad  I’m  out  of  the  Wilderness,” 

- — an  old  edition,  perhaps,  revised  and  enlarged,  with  varia- 
tions and  side-notes  complete,  rearranged  especially  for  the 
drum  corps  of  the  Freedmen’s  Exodus  Society.  The  drum- 
mers warmed  up  to  their  performance,  and  the  melody  be- 
came more  intense.  After  they  had  played  a short  time  there 
began  to  be  a remarkable  prevalence  of  headache,  and  then 
the  audience  began  to  ache  all  over.  The  commander  was 
petitioned  for  mercy.  The  tenor  became  louder  and  shriller^ 
the  bass  deeper  and  heavier.  The  commander  then  deliber- 
ately but  loudly  ordered  the  music  to  face  about  and  halt.  But 
no  command  could  be  heard  amidst  “the  clash  of  arms.” 
Each  burly  son  of  Ham  had  now  closed  his  eyes  and  nerved 
himself  for  the  first  grand  crescendo.  The  result  was  inevit- 
able. If  the  soldiers  waited  for  the  climax  they  would  all  be 
placed  on  the  pension-list  for  broken  ear-drums.  There  was 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


43 


only  one  way  out  of  the  difficulty — that  was  past  the  guard. 
That  individual,  they  found,  had  already  fled,  and  the  whole 
camp  soon  stampeded  after  him.  When  the  drummers  opened 
their  eyes,  after  they  had  finished  their  selection,  they  looked 
about  them,  found  nothing  but  darkness,  and  probablv  ad- 
journed. 


CAMP-FIRE  IV. 


BUTTERMILK  WITHOUT  MONEY,  BUT  NOT  WITHOUT  PRICE 

FREAKS  UNDER  FIRE “ JOHNNIES”  AND  “ YANKS 

STOP  SHOOTING  TO  SHAKE  HANDS SOLDIERS  AT  THE 

FRONT  DIFFERENT  FROM  “ HOME-GUARDS  ” SOUTHERN 

NEWSPAPERS — ORIGIN  OF  “ HOLD  THE  FORT.” 

SLL  the  veterans  answered  at  roll-call  this  evening,  as  did 
all  the  visiting  brethren — including  the  S.  P.  U.  H. — 
except  the  drum  corps  of  the  Freedmen’s  Exodus  So- 
ciety. No  one  asked  any  question,  not  caring  even  to  call  to 
mind  the  experience  of  the  previous  evening. 

Mr.  John  G.  Morrison  began  to  speak: 

“In  the  fall  of  1863,  our  Regiment  (the  101st  111.)  was 
transferred  from  West  Tennessee  to  Bridgeport,  Ala.,  and  at- 
tached to  the  nth  Army  Corps.  Supplies  for  the  army  at 
Chattanooga  were  at  that  time  carried  on  mules  from  Bridge- 
port by  a circuitous  route  along  the  north  bank  of  the  Ten- 
nessee River.  To  open  up  a shorter  and  better  route,  the  nth 
and  1 2th  Army  Corps,  not  then  reorganized  into  the  20th, 
were  ordered  to  march  across  to  Chattanooga. 

“ On  the  second  day’s  march  a discussion  arose  in  Com- 
pany D,  as  to  which  army  then  occupied  Lookout  Mountain. 
One  man  stoutly  maintained  that  Rosecrans  did  not  lose  at 
Chickamauga,  and  to  settle  the  matter,  one  of  D’s  men  broke 
ranks  and  ran  up  to  a house,  and  politely  asked  a lady  who 
was  standing  in  the  door,  and  trying  to  feel  that  she  wasn’t 
subdued  and  never  would  be,  whether  there  were  any  Confed- 
erates on  Lookout  Mountain.  She  replied  very  tartly  that 
when  he  came  back  he  might  tell  her. 

“ The  midnight  fight  in  the  valley,  the  battles  of  Mission 

44 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WA3, 


45 


Ridge  and  Lookout  Mountain  were  soon  fought,  and  after 
the  terrible  mid-winter  march  to  the  relief  of  Knoxville,  and 
a rest  at  Kelley’s  Ferry,  our  regiment  marched  back  over  the 
same  road  through  the  valley,  to  Bridgeport.  We  had  all  of 
us  forgotten  the  woman  and  her  evasive  answer,  except  the 
soldier  who  questioned  her.  As  we  passed  the  house,  he  again 
left  the  ranks  and  went  up  to  the  house,  taking  another  com- 
rade and  half  a dozen  canteens  with  him. 

“ ‘ Madam,’  he  said,  making  his  best  bow,  ‘ I am  going 
back  now,  and  stopped  to  tell  you  that  there  is  not  a single 
Confederate  on  the  mountain.’ 

“‘Clar  out!’  said  the  woman. 

“‘Well,  madam,  I saw  some  very  nice  buttermilk  when  I 
was  here  before,  and  I thought  I would  bring  my  canteen 
along  and  have  it  filled.’ 

<uNaw  sir!  ’ growled  the  woman.  ‘I  don’t  never  give 
no  Yankee  no  buttermilk  o’  mine.’ 

“ ‘ You  seem  to  be  decidedly  in  the  negative,  madam,  but 
I’ll  pay  you  for  the  milk — you’ll  never  have  to  give  a Union 
soldier  any  buttermilk.’ 

“ With  this  assurance,  the  woman  filled  the  canteens,  in 
high  hope  that  she  would  get  some  United  States  money,  for 
Confederate  scrip  was  already  depreciating,  notwithstanding 
the  stringent  laws  in  force  against  a discrimination  in  favor  of 
United  States  money. 

“‘How  much  are  these  worth?  ’ asked  the  soldier,  putting 
the  several  canteens  into  his  several  pockets. 

“ ‘ Two  dollars  apiece!  ’ said  the  woman. 

“‘  Ain’t  that  pretty  high?  ’ asked  the  soldier,  fumbling  in 
every  pocket  he  had  to  find  some  money. 

“6  Thought  yer  said  I wouldn’t  have  to  give  no  Union  sol- 
dier no  buttermilk,’  said  the  woman,  surmising  the  true  state 
of  affairs. 

“‘You  will  not,’  said  he  soldier — ‘I’ll  get  the  money  of 


4 6 CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

my  comrade  just  out  in  the  yard,’  and  he  started  out;  with 
his  hands  he  beckoned  the  comrade  to  go  back  toward  the 
passing  columns,  while  with  his  voice  he  called  him  toward 
the  house.  Of  course  the  comrade  was  in  a hurry  to  get 
back  to  the  ranks,  and  the  soldier  with  the  canteens  moved  on 
alter  him  with  apparent  reluctance,  leaving  the  woman  stand- 
ing in  her  doorway  watching  her  buttermilk  disappear  over 
the  hill,  her  great  expectation  slowly  changing  into  disap- 
pointment, and  then  disgust.” 

When  Mr.  Morrison  finished  speaking  Mr.  Thain  asked 
if  the  society  would  like  to  be  initiated  into  skirmishing,  and 
the  active  business  life  of  the  line  of  battle. 

u Yes,”  was  the  reply,  “ it  may  be  read  with  ravenous  in- 
terest by  the  two-thousand-one-hundred-and-third  generation 
hence.” 

“ Well,  let  us  take  Sherman’s  Atlanta  campaign  as  the 
main  basis  of  illustration;  for  the  war  was  not  conducted 
scientifically,  and  with  absolute  certainty  of  success,  until  after 
General  Grant  was  placed  in  command  of  all  the  Union 
forces,  and  had  arranged  a concert  of  action  between  the 
East  and  the  West.  There  is  a completeness  about  the  cam- 
paigns of  1864,  which  renders  that  year  of  the  conflict  an  in- 
teresting study  as  illustrating  the  art  of  war. 

44  Sherman’s  army  when  he  began  the  Atlanta  campaign, 
was  100,000  strong;  Johnston’s  60,000  strong,  but  he  had  the 
advantage  of  a friendly  country  in  his  rear,  and  the  additional 
advantage  of  a succession  of  carefully  fortified  lines  in  the 
line  of  his  possible  retreat.  A large  force  of  negroes  was  at 
work  all  the  while  in  his  rear;  and  when  he  abandoned  one 
line  of  works  he  had  another  to  take  shelter  in.  Sherman’s 
advantage  consisted  in  the  fact  that  he  could  spare  at  least 
40,000  men  to  lap  around  the  right  or  left  of  Johnston’s  posi- 
tion, and  by  threatening  his  communications  compel  him  to  fall 
back.  Every  direct  attack  made  ; y Sherman  failed,  but  the 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIE  WAR. 


47 


flank  movement  was  always  successful,  though  it  had  a de- 
moralizing effect  on  the  Confederates,  who  thereby  had  to 
confess  their  weakness  by  falling  back  each  time,  and  finally 
were  shut  up  in  Atlanta. 

“ Having  given  this  general  outline  of  the  way  in  which 
the  campaign  was  conducted,  let  us  now  suppose  that  Sher- 
man is  beginning  to  feel  one  of  Johnston’s  strong  posi- 
tions, for  instance,  the  line  including  Kenesaw,  Pine  and  Lost 
Mountains.  But  this  is  ticklish  work,  approaching  a strong 
line  in  a country  which  is  rough  and  hilly,  and  much  of  it 
heavily  timbered.  The  enemy  may  sally  out  on  us  while  we 
are  forming  our  line,  or  before  our  front  is  protected  by  earth- 
works. Yet  the  Union  soldiers  are  mighty  diggers,  and  if 
the  Johnnies  as  much  as  stop  to  tie  their  shoe  strings  before 
starting,  they  will  find  a line  of  works  barring  their  advance, 
raised  as  if  by  magic.  On  the  Atlanta  campaign,  the  spade 
was  mightier  than  the  sword.  Our  men  did  not  need  to  be 
urged  to  fortify;  the  enemy’s  shell  urged  them  in  language 
which  needed  no  interpretation.  As  soon  as  a line  was 
formed,  and  arms  stacked,  they  began  to  dig,  almost  as  in- 
stinctively as  a mole  begins  to  burrow  when  placed  on  the 
ground.  In  every  new  deal  that  Sherman  and  Johnston 
made,  spades  were  trumps,  and  as  our  boys  knew  how  to 
play  the  game,  we  usually  won. 

“ It  was  amazing  to  see  how  quickly  a line  could  be  thrown 
up  in  that  timbered  country.  Logs,  rails,  stumps,  stones — any- 
thing which  could  form  a slight  protection,  was  piled  along  the 
regimental  front,  and  inside  of  this  a trench  was  dug,  the 
earth  being  thrown  outside  to  form  a breastwork.  In  a few 
minutes  it  is  strong  enough  to  resist  a musketry  fire,  and  a 
sudden  charge  could  be  successfully  repelled  by  the  aid  of  this 
frail  work.  When  there  was  no  danger  of  immediate  attack, 
or  when  this  first  breastwork  became  a part  of  the  regular 
line  of  investure,  a strong  parapet  was  built,  faced  with  logs* 


4§ 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


poles,  or  rails,  perpendicular  on  the  inside,  and  four  or  five 
feet  high.  The  trench  on  the  inside  was  then  widened  to 
from  four  to  six  feet,  and  deepened  to  two  feet,  the  earth  being 
thrown  over  in  front  again,  and  making  a wall  on  the  outside, 
four  to  six  feet  thick.  The  parapet  was  generally  crowned 
with  a head-log,  a space  being  left  between  its  under  side  and 
the  parapet  to  fire  through.  The  head-log  rested  on  skids, 
which  sloped  off  across  the  trench  to  keep  the  log  from  injur- 
ing the  men,  if  displaced  by  a cannon-shot.  These  works  were 
sometimes  further  strengthened  by  an  abatis  of  tree  tops, 
placed  a number  of  rods  in  front, with  their  sharpened  branches 
turned  toward  the  enemy.  Through  this  an  attacking  column 
would  find  great  difficulty  in  making  their  way  under  fire. 
Such  works  could  be  held  against  almost  any  direct  attack,  as 
Sherman  found  to  his  cost  in  his  unsuccessful  charge  on  the 
Kenesaw  line  on  the  27th  of  June. 

44  The  skirmish  pit  was  much  like  the  mainline  in  construc- 
tion, except  that  it  was  lighter  and  only  twelve  or  fifteen  feet 
long.  The  skirmish  pits  were  placed  as  far  in  advance  of  the 
main  line  as  the  location  of  the  enemy’s  pits  would  permit, 
the  opposing  skirmish  lines  often  being  uncomfortably  near 
each  other. 

44  The  establishment  of  a skirmish  pit  in  an  exposed  posi- 
tion, in  the  face  of  a watchful  Confederate  line,  was  a task  re- 
quiring the  wisdom  of  a serpent,  the  courage  of  a lion,  and  the 
building  powers  of  a beaver.  I distinctly  remember  one 
particular  skirmish  line  in  front  of  Johnston’s  Allatoona  line  of 
defense;  and  though  the  situation  now  presents  itself  to  me  in 
a somewhat  ludicrous  light,  it  was  serious  enough  on  Satur- 
day, the  28th  of  May,  1864.  We  went  on  the  skirmish  line 
before  daylight,  as  it  was  in  an  open  field  in  plain  sight  of  the 
enemy’s  main  line,  and  not  more  than  300  yards  from  their 
skirmish  line.  The  particular  post  where  I found  myself  was 
sheltered  by  two  lengths  of  rail-fence  in  the  shape  of  a letter 


THE  SKIRMISH  LINE 


50  CAMF-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


V,  strengthened,  somewhat  by  additional  rails.  At  first  we 
confinpfi \o\hiS  Attention  to  the  enemy’s  skirmish  pits,  and  many 
sharp  shots  were  exchanged.  But  along  in  the  forenoon  we 
became  ambitious,  and  began  tc  ry  the  effect  of  long-range 
shots  on  the  main  line.  Directly  in  front  of  us  was  one  of  the 
enemy’s  batteries,  and  as  we  could  now  and  then  see  a man 
not  sheltered  by  the  parapet,  or  an  officer  riding  along  on 
horseback,  it  amused  us  to  see  how  our  long-range  shots 
would  quicken  their  pace.  Some  of  the  shots  must  have  taken 
effect,  or,  at  any  rate,  they  could  bear  our  fire  no  longer,  for 
about  the  middle  of  the  forenoon  that  battery  opened  a terrible 
fire  on  our  particular  pile  of  rails. 

“ We  had  thought  that  our  insignificance  was  our  best  pro- 
tection, but  now  the  tables  were  sadly  turned.  We  knew 
that  the  loose  rails  would  aid  in  our  destruction  if  a shot 
should  strike  them,  but  we  clung  to  our  fence  corner,  dread- 
ing the  skirmish  fire  if  we  should  leave  it. 

a Serious  as  the  situation  was,  a ludicrous  feeling  flashed 
through  my  mind  for  a moment  as  I looked  around  for  a place 
to  lie  down.  My  comrades,  including  the  lieutenant  of  tne 
guard,  were  piled  together  in  the  corner  of  the  V,  each  try- 
ing to  make  himself  as  flat  as — ” [some  of  the  sermons 
preached  by  the  chaplains — the  S.  P.  U.  H.  thought  he  said 
— as  their  great  ears  for  once  failed  to  catch  the  comparison; 
but  it  might  have  been  as  flat  as  they  lay  when  robbing  hen- 
roosts while  the  property  man  was  near.  However,  the 
society  concluded,  without  any  reflection  upon  the  speaker, 
that  posterity  must  necessarily  suffer  the  loss  of  some  eloquent 
points  of  history;  otherwise  the  historian  of  three  thousand 
years  hence  would  have  no  ancient  manuscripts  to  ponder 
over.] 

“ The  boys  were  so  mixed  together,”  continued  the  nar- 
rator, “ that  I could  not  distinguish  one  from  the  other.  I 
lay  down  behind  the  pile,  and  wished  myself  behind  the  main 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  TjtiE  CIVIL  WAR.  5 1 

line.  Shell  after  shell  shrieked  over  us  so  close  that  we  could 
almost  feel  the  wind  of  them,  and  one  or  two  burst  just  be- 
hind the  post,  but  nothing  struck  our  pile  of  rails. 

“ The  fire  from  the  enemy’s  batteries  became  so  sharp  that 
our  batteries  began  to  answer  it,  and  this  turned  their  atten- 
tion from  such  small  game  to  pay  their  respects  to  our  main 
line.  Other  batteries  began  to  join  in,  and  as  gun  after  gun 
awoke  from  both  sides  it  seemed  as  if  old  Nick  had  let  loose 
all  his  dragons.  When  the  firing  ceased  we  became  badgers, 
one  and  all,  and  began  to  dig  for  dear  life.  Bayonets,  tin 
plates,  pieces  of  rails — anything  that  could  turn  up  earth, 
was  used. 

“ By-and-by,  when  the  Confederate  skirmishers  were  not 
alert,  one  of  our  number  crept  along,  Indian-fashion,  past  a 
light  growth  of  bushes  to  the  next  post  to  the  right.  He  soon 
returned  with  a spade,  and  if  that  spade  had  been  solid  gold, 
handle  and  all,  presented  to  our  post  for  our  sauciness  in  stir- 
ring up  such  a hub-bub,  it  could  not  have  been  received  with 
greater  delight.  At  first  it  was  used  with  great  difficulty,  for 
to  rise  to  one’s  feet,  even  in  a stooping  posture,  was  almost  sure 
death  from  a rebel  musket-ball.  By  slow  degrees  a shaft  was 
sunk  in  the  fence-corner,  deep  enough  for  a man  to  stand  up- 
right, and  by  making  frequent  changes,  that  spade  was  so 
diligently  used,  that  by  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  we  had 
transformed  our  frail  defense  into  a shot-proof  redan. 

u Then  we  opened  on  that  battery  again,  loading  and  fir- 
ing as  fast  as  we  could,  and  they  opened  on  us  more  furiously 
than  before,  but  we  answered  them  shot  for  shot.  We  had 
one  advantage, Tor,  by  watching  the  puffs  of  smoke  from  their 
cannon  we  could  seek  safety  in  the  subterranean  region  of  our 
little  fort  before  the  shot  reached  us.  We  could  dodge  their 
shots,  but  they  could  not  dodge  our  musket-shots,  which  were 
imperceptible.  They  tried  us  with  solid  shot,  then  shell,  then 
grape-shot;  but  all  in  vain.  We  “ silenced’.’  that  battery,  that 


5 2 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


is,  they  ceased  firing  because  their  shots  were  of  no  effect; 
then  we  rested  on  our  laurels.  Those  of  my  hearers  who 
have  never  been  in  a battle  may  get  some  idea  of  the  skirmish 
line  of  a great  battle  by  multiplying  many  times  the  expe- 
rience just  related. 

“The  Atlanta  campaign  might  be  called  a skirmish  one 
hundred  and  twenty  days  long,  rising  now  and  then  into  a 
battle;  for,  from  the  time  that  we  took  the  enemy’s  works  at 
Tunnel  Hill  on  May  7,  until  we  parted  company  with 
Hood’s  army  at  Jonesboro,  below  Atlanta,  the  skirmish  fire 
hardly  ever  ceased. 

“ The  two  armies  became  familiar  with  each  other  on  the 
skirmish  line;  and  familiarity  bred  respect . On  the  Kenesaw 
line  the  skirmishers  began  to  parley  with  each  other,  and 
friendly  meetings  between  the  lines  became  frequent. 

“ I happened  to  be  on  the  skirmish  line  when  the  practice 
first  began.  One  afternoon  there  was  a pretty  lively  fire  for 
awhile,  and  then  a lull.  It  seemed  as  if  both  sides  had 
become  tired;  and  then  the  Johnnies  hailed  us  thus: 

“c  Hello,  Yanks!  Let  up  awhile.  Stop  firing,  and  send 
out  two  unarmed  men  half  way,  to  talk  with  two  of  ours.’ 

“ c Do  you  want  to  surrender?  ’ we  asked. 

“‘No!  Give  us  a rest,  and  we’ll  have  a chat  with  you.’ 
All  right,  Johnny ; you  do  the  same.’ 
icA  man  from  company  A and  myself  started  through  the 
woods  toward  the  rebel  line,  and  before  we  had  gone  very 
far,  we  saw  coming  toward  us  two  butternut-clad  men,  who 
were  almost  duplicates  of  Hercules.  The  rebs  had  not  yet 
learned  to  trust  our  word,  and  so  they  had  sent  two  men  fa- 
mous for  their  fighting  powers  in  a rough-and-tumble  en- 
counter. I do  not  say  that  we  had  been  selected  for  the  same 
reason,  though,  in  fact,  my  companion  was  a noted  fist- 
fighter — the  terror  of  the  whole  camp  when  he  was 
intoxicated. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


53 


44  These  two  tall  men  were  brothers  from  Texas,  but  our 
meeting  was  so  friendly  that  suspicion  was  disarmed  at  once, 
and  we  sat  down  for  a talk.  The  first  question  of  the  John- 
nies’ was: 

444  Ain’t  you  ’uns  most  tired  o’  this  thing?’ 

44  It  was  evident  that  they  were;  but  we  told  them  that 
we  had  come  to  Dixie  to  see  the  thing  through,  and  that 
when  they  were  ready  to  say  quit,  and  call  us  brothers  under 
the  Stars  and  Stripes,  we  would  gladly  go  home. 

44 4 But  why  have  you  ’uns  come  down  here  to  take  away 
our  niggers  ? ’ 

44  We  assured  them  that  such  was  not  our  object,  and  tried 
to  enlighten  them  as  to  the  cause  of  the  war.  They  were 
very  ignorant,  and  hardly  knew  what  they  were  fighting 
for;  but  were  wise  enough  to  know  that  they  were  being 
beaten.  They  were  anxious  for  some  4 Lincoln  coffee,’  as 
they  called  it,  and  we  gave  them  some  from  our  haversacks. 
At  this  time  the  Johnnies  were  living  on  rye  coffee,  corn 
bread  and  bacon. 

44  4 You  Yanks  drink  Rio,’  they  said, 4 but  we  drink  Ry-e /’ 

44  After  exchanging  Northern  papers  for  some  of  the 
wretchedly-printed  sheets  then  published  in  the  South,  we 
parted  company  with  our  two  tall  Texan  friends,  and  soon 
both  parties  were  safe  within  their  own  lines. 

44  Here  is  a sample  of  the  newspapers  published  in  the 
South  in  the  latter  part  of  the  war,”  and  the  speaker  held  up 
a copy  of  the  44  Vicksburg  Citizen,”  of  July  2,  1863. 

It  was  an  interesting  relic.  Stationery  was  somewhat 
scarce  in  Confederate  society,  and  even  in  business  circles, 
when  this  edition  of  the  44  Citizen  ” was  printed.  Every- 
thing available  in  the  line  of  paper  had  been  used  in  making 
government  44  scrip,”  so  that  there  was  little  supply  for  the 
baser  needs  of  civilization.  However,  the  editor  of  the 
“ Citizen”  was  enterprising,  and  would  not  suspend  his  pub- 


54 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


lication  as  long  as  anything  like  paper  could  be  found  with 
one  white  side  to  it.  By  the  merest  chance  he  obtained  a 
quantity  of  fifth-grade  wall-paper  at  a fabulous  price,  and  at 
once  proceeded  to  issue  the  “ Citizen,”  only  two  days  before 
the  surrender  of  the  city.  It  was  a daily  paper — daily  when- 
ever the  proprietor  could  find  anything  to  print  it  on — and  the 
copy  exhibited  was  sixteen  inches  long  by  eleven  inches  wide, 
with  four  minign  columns  of  war  news  quite  clearly  printed 
on  the  uncolored  side.  The  coloring  of  the  other  side  was  a 
rough,  gloomy  green  for  the  solid  color,  having  a brown  vine- 
like figure  with  a red  flower  for  the  ornamentation.  It  was  a 
novel  publication — a monument  to  the  endeavor  of  the  pro- 
prietor, who  could  in  reality  present  his  readers  with  a 
chromo  this  time — and  only  commemorates  the  extremities 
developed  by  war. 

The  relic  was  passed  around  for  the  curious  to  examine, 
while  the  speaker  continued : 

“As  soon  as  we  were  safe  in  our  own  lines  there  would 
come  a hail,  c Look  out,  Yanks!  we’re  going  to  shoot!’ 

“ c All  right,  Johnny,  pop  away!  ’ And  for  some  time  the 
skirmish  fire  would  be  kept  up  with  unusual  briskness,  like 
children  who  break  into  an  uproar  after  a period  of  enforced 
silence. 

“ There  was  nothing  malicious  about  it;  indeed,  there  was 
very  little  personal  malice  at  this  time  between  the  men  of 
the  two  armies.  We  had  learned  to  respect  each  other  on 
many  a well-fought  field,  and  when  our  men  fell  into  their 
hands  the  regular  soldiers  treated  them  kindly.  It  was  the 
wretched  State  militia,  home-guards,  and  soldiers  who  had 
never  seen  a battle,  who  treated  our  prisoners  so  cruelly  at 
Andersonville  and  other  Southern  prisons. 

“ In  concluding,  I will  offer  a little  incident  which  inspired 
the  song,  c Hold  the  Fort.’  The  original  was  not  very  reli- 
gious, but  in  battle,  under  great  excitement,  men  do  and  say 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


55 


things  which  would  not  be  excusable  in  civil  life.  It  was  at 
the  bloody  battle  of  Allatoona  Pass;  and  Sherman,  fearing 
that  General  Corse,  who  held  an  important  position,  might 
weaken,  dispatched  him  to  ‘hold  the  fort 5 at  all  hazards.  To 
this  General  Corse  replied:  ‘I  am  short  a cheek-bone  and  an 
ear,  but  can  whip  all  h — 1 yet.5  55 

“Your  Veference  to  the  skirmish  lines,55  said  Gen.  Ira 
J.  Bloomfield,  of  the  26th  Illinois,  u reminds  me  of  some  of 
the  freaks  the  boys  committed  at  the  siege  of  Atlanta.  When 
the  siege  was  in  full  blast,  we  moved  our  entrenchments  to 
within  fifteen  or  twenty  paces  of  the  enemy  in  many  places, 
and  the  men  resorted  to  all  kinds  of  tricks  and  devices  to  get 
a good  shot.  One  was  to  get  a piece  of  looking-glass,  and 
then  turn  a loaded  gun-barrel  down,  pointed  over  the  top  of 
our  works;  and  by  lying  down  below  it,  and  using  the  look- 
ing-glass, a soldier  could  sight  his  gun  without  exposing  him- 
self at  all.  But  a very  ingenious  contrivance  was  to  hollow  a 
conical  minie-ball  and  fill  it  with  powder,  and  then  fit  a 
percussion  cap  to  the  point  of  the  ball,  with  an  opening 
down  to  the  powder.  One  man  would  load  his  rifle  with 
this  ball,  and  several  of  his  comrades  would  stand  with  their 
weapons  cocked,  ready  to  fire.  The  man  with  the  conical 
ball  in  his  rifle  would  fire  at  a stump,  fence-rail,  or  any  solid 
substance  that  could  be  seen  near  the  enemy’s  rifle  pits. 
When  this  bullet  struck,  it  would  explode  and  sound  as  if 
some  one  just  outside  their  works  had  fired  a gun.  This  nat- 
urally would  make  them  raise  their  heads  to  see  what  it 
meant.  Then  came  the  opportunity  for  the  men  in  waiting 
to  surprise  their  antagonists  with  the  most  effective  shots, 
much  to  the  gratification  of  our  men,  and  the  chagrin  of  the 
boys  in  gray." 


CAMP-FIRE  V. 


A Surprise  for  the  johnnies— with  banks  up  the  red 

RIVER PRISON  LIFE  IN  TEXAS SOLDIERS  YET  ON  PA- 

ROLE— TROUBLE  BETWEEN  THE  I3TH  AND  I9TH  ARMY 
CORPS. 

«HE  incidents  related  at  the  close  of  the  last  camp-fire, 
revived  many  another  experience,  and  the  roll-call  was 
scarcely  finished  before  a comrade  belonging  to  the  100th 
Indiana  besought  that  the  following  might  be  chronicled : 

“ While  at  New  Hope  Church,  Ga.,  we  advanced  our 
lines  each  night,  until  our  brigade — the  second  of  the  first  di- 
vision of  the  1 ^tbrArmy  Corps — -had  advanced  and  entrenched, 
by  actual  count,  to  within  1 14  steps  of  the  rebel  works.  The 
only  guard  duty  we  did  was  to  make  a detail  of  three  men  to 
each  company  to  do  camp  guard  at  night,  with  instructions  to 
watch  very  carefully,  lest  the  enemy  should  surprise  us  wh:le 
it  was  dark. 

“We  could  plainly  see  the  Confederate  works  during  the 
day,  and  no  man  dare  raise  his  head  above  the  fortifications, 
lest  he  be  a target  for  the  watchful  sharpshooters. 

a So  on  the  4th  of  June,  1864,  Colonel  Heath,  of  the  100th 
Indiana,  concluded  to  give  the  Johnnies  a little  surprise.  He 
called  on  the  Colonel  of  the  46th  Ohio,  and  giving  him  the 
cue,  they  soon  had  everything  in  readiness.  The  46th  Ohio 
being  armed  with  the  Spencer  rifle  (seven  shooters),  they 
were  ordered  to  load,  and  every  man  be  ready  to  fire  at  the 
sound  of  the  bugle.  The  100th  Indiana  had  orders  to  give  the 
‘Yankee  yell’  at  the  first  blast  of  the  bugle.  Soon  all  was 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


57 


in  order,  and  the  boys  were  eager  for  the  work  in  hand.  The 
bugle  sounded  the  ‘forward,’  and  the  cheers  of  the  iooth 
Indiana  followed. 

“The  rebs,  hearing  the  bugle  and  the  shouting  of  the  boys, 
concluded  we  were  charging  their  lines,  and  sprang  to  their 
feet  to  meet  us,  thus  exposing  themselves.  Then  the  46th 
Ohio  opened  fire  upon  them  with  their  Spencers,  and  it  began 
to  tell.  The  Johnnies  quickly  turned  and  sought  cover,  en- 
raged beyond  expression,  each  cursing  and  swearing  to  the 
full  extent  of  his  blasphemous  vocabulary.  They  heaped  all 
sorts  of  abuse  on  us,  and  one  fellow  was  particularly  exas- 
perated. As  he  was  going  back,  full  of  disgust,  he  faced 
about  and  yelled,  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  4 Shoot  away — you 
can’t  hit  anything.  You  think  you’re  mighty  smart,  but  it’s 
only  another  one  of  your  darned  Yankee  nutmeg  tricks.’  A 
round  of  Yankee  applause  was  followed  by  a volley,  but  the 
fellow  got  behind  the  works  just  in  time  to  escape.” 

Major  J.  M.  McCulloch,  of  the  77th  Illinois,  then  asked  if 
prison  life  in  the  South  had  been  discussed  at  any  previous 
camp-fire.  Unfortunately  he  had  not  been  present  at  any  of 
the  meetings,  but  would  miss  none  of  them  hereafter. 

“Since  you  have  mentioned  the  matter,  we  will  hear 
from  you  first,”  said  the  commander. 

“Well,  I am  hardly  prepared  to  speak  impromptu,”  said 
the  Major. 

“Major  McCulloch!”  “Prison  life!”  “Major  McCul- 
loch!” “Speech!”  “Speech!”  and  other  exclamations  were 
heard  from  the  auditors. 

“ Well,  if  there  is  no  escape,  I will  tell  you  of  my  expe- 
rience, not  in  Andersonville,  for  I was  not  there;  but  there 
were  other  prison  pens,  and  I served  more  than  a year  in  one 
in  Texas,  which  may  not  be  altogether  uninteresting  to  talk 

about. 

“ About  the  1st  of  March,  1864,  was  my  l°t  to  join  the 


58 


CAMP-FIRE  trfATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR* 


expedition  up  Red  River  in  Louisiana,  under  the  command  of 
General  Banks.  The  previous  winter  months  had  been  occu- 
pied in  preparation  for  the  expedition,  and  on  the  8th  of 
March  the  best  equipped  and  best  clad  army  that  I was  with 
during  my  term  of  service,  commenced  a forward  movement 
from  Brashear  City,  Louisiana,  and  marched  directly  through 
to  Alexandria  without  delay.  This  was  also  one  of  the  best 
conducted  marches.  Many  of  the  boys  had  desired  to  go 
with  Sherman,  but  as  they  did  not  get  their  wishes,  the  trip 
up  Red  River  was  made  more  pleasant  than  usual.  The 
column  was  in  motion  early  in  the  morning,  and  went  into 
camp  early  in  the  evening.  No  promiscuous  foraging  was 
indulged,  but  everything  necessary  was  amply  provided  by 
detailed  foraging  parties,  so  that  there  was  no  necessity  for 
the  weary  soldier  to  spend  part  of  the  night  in  getting  some- 
thing fresh  to  eat. 

a We  reached  Alexandria  on  the  26th  of  March,  and 
joined  the  main  column  of  the  expedition  conducted  by  Gen- 
eral Franklin.  One  w$ek  later  we  reached  Natchitoches 
(pronounced  Nakitosh  by  the  natives),  where  General  Banks 
took  command  in  person.  On  the  morning  of  the  6th  of 
April  the  column  was  again  in  motion  toward  Shreveport, 
the  advance  meeting  with  considerable  opposition  from  the 
enemy.  Our  regiment  was  ordered  to  the  front  as  skirmish- 
ers on  the  8th,  and  about  3 o’clock  p.  m.,  after  repeated 
skirmishes  with  the  enemy  (in  one  of  which  our  Lieut. -Col- 
onel L.  R.  Webb  was  killed),  we  found  them  strongly  posted 
to  resist  our  further  progress.  A line  of  battle  was  formed  by 
the  advance  troops,  consisting  of  the  2d  division  of  the  13th 
Army  Corps  and  a few  regiments  of  cavalry. 

“General  Ransom,  who  commanded  this  section  of  the 
13th  Army  Corps,  seeing  the  dangerous  situation  of  the 
advance,  asked  permission  to  withdraw  some  distance  to  get  a 
better  position,  but  was  ordered  to  hold  his  ground.  The 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


59 


other  division  of  our  corps  was  three  miles  in  the  rear,  and 
the  19th  Corps,  consisting  of  about  ten  thousand,  was  abou:; 
eight  miles,  and  a force  of  ten  thousand  under  Gen.  A.  J. 
Smith,  fully  a day’s  march  in  the  rear  of  that.  Why  we 
were  thus  scattered  I never  heard  explained.  The  rebels, 
under  Gen.  Dick  Taylor,  to  the  number  of  fifteen  or  twenty 
thousand,  seeing  we  would  advance  no  further,  and  know- 
ing our  scattered  condition,  commenced  an  attack  upon  us, 
and  brought  on  a terrific  engagement,  afterward  called  the 
battle  of  Sabine  Cross  Roads,  by  our  army,  but  Mansfield  by 
the  Confederates. 

“ The  center  of  our  line  held  their  ground  manfully  and 
did  terrible  execution  in  the  ranks  of  the  advancing  foe,  re- 
pelling three  separate  attacks;  but  the  rebel  line,  being  so 
much  longer  than  ours,  pressed  the  wings  of  our  line  back, 
and,  before  the  center  was  aware  of  it,  a line  of  rebels  was 
formed  in  their  rear.  Being  nearly  out  of  ammunition,  they 
submitted  to  the  inevitable,  and  surrendered.  This  surrender 
included  the  48th  Ohio,  the  19th  Kentucky,  and  two  com- 
panies from  the  right  of  our  regiment,  the  77th  Illinois. 

u The  retreating  wings  met  the  3d  division  a short  distance 
in  the  rear,  and  with  them  formed  another  line,  but  the  same 
fate  befel  it.  The  19th  Corps  being  six  or  seven  miles  still 
further  in  the  rear,  the  rebels  met  no  further  opposition  until 
they  encountered  this  corps  well-formed  in  line  of  battle,  be- 
hind which  our  retreating  fragments  found  shelter.  Flushed 
with  victory  the  rebels  rushed  upon  this  new  line  of  battle, 
but  were  repulsed  with  great  slaughter,  and  retired.  Dark- 
ness closed  the  scene. 

“ Having  escaped  from  the  first  line  of  battle,  I formed 
with  the  second,  and  was  there  made  a prisoner  of  war.  I 
had  often  before  felt,  when  entering  a battle,  that  I might  be 
killed  or  wounded,  but  I had  never  once  thought  of  being 
captured.  You  can  therefore  imagine  my  consternation. 


oo 


C'AMF-FIKK  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 


“ The  utter  route  of  our  army  and  the  general  demorali- 
zation which  surrounded  me,  made  me  feel  for  the  moment 
as  if  the  whole  United  States  had  collapsed.  I soon  met  Cap- 
tain White,  of  the  Chicago  Mercantile  Battery,  who  had  been 
acting  as  chief  of  artillery  on  the  division  commander’s  staff, 
and  said  to  him  in  a low  tone: 

“ c Captain,  doesn’t  this  beat  anything  you  ever  saw?  ’ 
u cOh,  no!  ’ he  replied,  c it’s  nothing  to  Shiloh!  ’ 
u He  had  been  a lieutenant  in  Taylor’s  battery  at  tha, 
battle. 

46  I then  took  courage  and  congratulated  myself  on  the 
thought  that  it  was  probably  not  so  bad  after  all,  and  that 
while  many  of  my  comrades  had  4 bitten  the  dust,’  I still  had 
my  life.  But  as  I had  never  thought  of  being  taken  a pris- 
oner, nor  of  a prisoner’s  condition,  a new,  and  what  proved  to 
be  a fearful  experience,  now  began  to  open  up  to  me.  I was 
taken  with  others  to  Mansfield,  three  miles  distant,  where  we 
arrived  after  dark,  and  were  confined  in  the  court  house  all 
night.  Those  who  had  been  captured  earlier  in  the  day  were 
guarded  in  an  open  field  about  a mile  from  town. 

44  During  the  night  we  saw  sad  evidence  of  the  havoc  we 
had  created  in  the  battle.  It  was  told  us  that  a Louisiana 
regiment  of  about  1,200,  made  up  from  that  vicinity,  had 
been  cut  to  pieces;  and  the  ambulances  seemed  to  confirm 
the  report,  as  a continual  stream  of  dead  and  wounded  came 
in  during  the  whole  of  the  night.  Great  lamentation  was 
manifested.  It  was  impossible  for  us  to  sleep,  as  there  was 
scarcely  more  than  standing  room  in  the  building.  In  the 
morning  we  were  marched  out  of  the  town  toward  Shreve- 
port, and  when  a mile  out  our  comrades,  who  had  spent  the 
night  in  the  field,  joined  us  and  made  a delegation  of  eleven 
hundred.  We  marched  three  abreast,  with  a row  of  mounted 
guards  on  each  side,  and  a squad  in  front  and  rear. 

44  After  marching  about  sixteen  miles  we  camped  for  the 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


6 1 


night;  and  for  the  first  time  since  our  capture  rations  were 
issued  to  us — consisting  of  corn  meal  and  salt  beef.  Having 
no  cooking  utensils  of  any  description,  it  was  more  than  Yan- 
kee ingenuity  could  do  to  prepare  much  for  eating;  but  we 
managed  after  this  fashion:  The  meal  was  mixed  on  a rub- 

ber blanket,  with  water  and  a little  salt  from  the  beef  barrel, 
and  then  spread  on  a piece  of  board  and  held  to  the  fire  to 
bake.  The  salt  beef  was  cut  in  pieces  and  stuck  on  the  end 
of  a sharpened  stick,  then  held  in  the  blaze,  and  thus,  during 
the  night,  we  managed  to  partially  stop  the  gnawings  of 
hunger.  After  the  second  night,  the  guard  arranged  to  do 
their  cooking  by  detail  during  the  day,  giving  us  their  utensils 
at  night;  and  by  cooking  in  turns  all  night,  we  managed  to 
get  our  new  fare  into  better  shape. 

“Adverse  news  from  the  front  during  the  first  night  caused 
our  course  to  be  changed  the  next  morning  toward  Marshall, 
Texas,  and  on  the  fifth  day  after  leaving  Mansfield  we  passed 
through  that  town,  which  is  a place  of  considerable  size  near 
the  Louisiana  line;  thence  directly  west  from  Shreveport.  The 
inhabitants  of  the  town  and  vicinity  had  been  informed  that 
Gen.  Banks’  entire  army  had  been  captured  and  was  coming. 
So  the  streets  were  lined  with  men,  women,  and  children  of 
the  various  shades  of  color  from  black  to  white,  to  see  the 
Yankees.  We  were  ordered  to  march  two  abreast,  in  order 
to  make  a longer  column  and  a more  impressive  appearance. 
When  about  the  center  of  the  town  we  struck  up  our  national 
war-song,  c The  Union  Forever,’  and  sung: 

‘“We  are  coming  from  the  East  and  we’re  coming  from  the  West, 
Shouting  the  battle  cry  of  Freedom! 

And  we’ll  hurl  the  rebel  crew  from  the  land  we  love  the  best, 
Shouting  the  battle  cry  of  Freedom! 

“''The  Union  forever!  Hurrah,  boys,  hurrah! 

Down  with  the  traitors  and  up  with  the  stars, 

While  we’ll  rally  round  the  flag,  boys,  rally  once  again. 
Shouting  the  battle  cry  of  Freedom.’ 


62 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“ While  we  were  singing,  some  of  the  women  tried  to  per- 
suade the  commander  of  the  guard  to  stop  us,  but  he  seemed 
to  think  it  was  our  privilege,  and  paid  no  attention  to  their 
solicitations.  In  fact,  the  guard,  who  already  had  heard  much 
of  our  singing,  seemed  to  enjoy  it,  much  to  the  chagrin  of  the 
spectators.  We  tried  to  make  the  best  of  our  circumstances, 
and  often  sang  by  the  way.  On  several  occasions  we  passed 
by  camps  of  negroes  whose  masters  were  taking  them  to  the 
interior  of  Texas,  in  order  to  keep  them  out  of  reach  of  our 
army.  On  such  occasions  our  boys  would  sing: 

“ ‘ Ole  massa  run,  ha!  ha! 

De  darkies  stay,  ho!  ho! 

It  must  be  now  dat  de  kingdom^  comm’ 

And  de  year  of  Jubilo.’ 

“ We  arrived  in  the  vicinity  of  the  prisoners’  camp  on  the 
15th  of  April,  having  marched  about  1*25  miles  in  seven  days. 
The  camp  was  situated  about  three  miles  east  of  Tyler,  in 
Smith  county,  Texas,  and  called  Camp  Ford.  It  was  in- 
closed by  a stockade  made  of  heavy  timbers  split  in  halves 
and  firmly  set  in  the  ground  on  end.  Originally  it  contained 
only  three  acres,  but  had  been  enlarged  recently  to  about 
seven,  in  order  to  accommodate  the  new  arrival.  We  re- 
mained where  we  camped  for  the  night,  until  the  afternoon 
of  the  next  day,  when  we  were  moved  inside  the  stockade. 
We  had  not  expected  a paradise,  but  we  felt  that  after  such 
accommodations  as  we  had  on  the  march — no  shelter  or 
blankets,  except  such  as  we  bought  or  traded  for — it  would  be 
a relief  to  get  some  place  in  which  to  lie  down  in  shelter  at 
night.  Imagine  our  surprise  when  we  came  in  sight  of  the 
camp.  Inside  the  pen  there  were  a few  log-cabins  and  dug- 
outs,  crowded  together  promiscuously  in  one  corner.  On  the 
tops  of  these,  and  on  the  highest  points,  were  gathered  a 
motley  crew  of  about  six  hundred,  in  very  ragged  clothing,  to 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  TIIE  CIVIL  WAR.  6$ 

get  a glimpse  of  the  new-comers,  about  whom  big  tales  had 
been  told  them.  The  remainder  of  the  inclosure  was  a newly 
cleared  piece  of  woodland,  with  nothing  on  it  but  stumps,  a 
few  brush  heaps,  and  some  old  logs.  Our  hearts  almost  sank 
within  us.  But  into  the  stockade  we  went,  and  on  the  unoc- 
cupied part  were  drawn  up  in  parallel  lines  about  twenty  feet 
apart.  Here  we  were  counted  and  delivered  to  the  com- 
mandant of  the  prison,  one  Colonel  Allen,  who  addressed  us 
in  a few  words,  telling  what  he  expected  us  to  do,  and 
closing  with:  cNow,  gentlemen,  these  are  your  quarters — 

make  yourselves  as  comfortable  as  possible.’  With  nothing 
but  the  blue  heavens  for  a covering  and  the  naked  earth  for  a 
bed,  and  nothing  within  reach  but  a few  brush  heaps,  to  be 
told  to  make  ourselves  comfortable,  we  thought  was  decid- 
edly cool . 

“ The  old  prisoners  gathered  around  us,  anxious  to  hear  the 
news  from  the  outside  world,  and  the  remainder  of  the  even- 
ing was  spent  in  chatting  and  partaking  of  what  the  older  in- 
habitants could  spare  from  their  scanty  fare.  The  officers  of 
our  party  were  taken  into  the  cabins  of  the  officers  already 
there,  who  shared  with  us  their  limited  quarters;  but  the 
privates  could  only  set  fire  to  some  of  the  brush  heaps  and 
logs,  and  huddle  around  them  as  best  they  could  for  the 
night.  Many  following  nights  were  passed  in  the  same 
way  before  shelter  of  any  kind  could  be  had.  The  offi- 
cers were  first  permitted  to  go  out  to  the  woods  under  guard, 
and  cut  and  carry  in  timbers  to  build  themselves  quarters, 
which  was  accomplished  in  a few  days.  Then  the  men 
were  allowed  to  go  out  in  small  parties,  but  the  process  was 
so  slow  that  the  best  that  could  be  done  was  to  get  poles  and 
<orush  with  leaves  to  make  arbors  for  shelter  from  the  sun  by 
day  and  the  dews  by  night.  Some  of  the  more  energetic  and 
persistent  ones  succeeded  in  getting  a clapboard  roof,  but  a 
great  many  spent  most  of  the  summer  with  nothing  but  brush 


64 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


roofs.  Some  made  dug-outs,  and  covered  with  earth  a place 
just  large  enough  for  two  or  three  to  sleep  in.  As  winter  ap- 
proached we  were  allowed  to  go  out  in  greater  numbers, 
under  a strong  guard,  and  carry  timbers  for  more  than  half  a 
mile.  By  Christmas  most  of  the  inmates  had  pretty  fair 
quarters,  and  the  camp  assumed  a better  appearance. 

u Our  rations  were  delivered  in  bulk  to  persons  designated 
by  ourselves  to  receive  and  distribute  them,  and  consisted  of 
corn  meal,  fresh  beef  and  salt.  A pint  of  corn  meal  and  a 
pound  of  beef  was  our  daily  allowance  per  man,  with  suf- 
ficient salt  to  season  them.  Occasionally  during  the  earlier 
part  of  our  stay,  rye  was  issued  for  coffee.  Twice  the  corn 
meal  failed  for  several  days  at  a time,  and  whole  corn  shelled 
was  issued  instead.  Some  amusement  was  created  during  its 
delivery.  When  the  wagon  would  make  its  appearance,  the 
boys  would  start  from  different  parts  of  the  camp  toward  the 
delivery  place,  calling  u Whoo-e-e!  Whoo-e-e!”  as  though 
calling  hogs  to  their  feed.  The  corn,  however,  answered  a 
good  purpose,  as  it  was  a change,  the  boys  making  it  into 
hominy.  Our  beef  during  the  summer  was  passable,  but  late 
in  the  fall  it  got  so  poor  that  it  scarcely  tasted  like  beef.  A 
detail  of  our  men  butchered  the  beeves  and  quartered  them, 
then  the  rebel  guard  picked  out  the  best  of  the  hind  quarters, 
and  the  remainder  was  brought  into  the  stockade.  When 
the  beef  got  so  poor  the  guard  complained  to  their  officer, 
but  no  attention  was  paid  to  them.  Finally,  one  day  after 
drawing  their  portion,  they  carried  it  in  procession  to  the 
woods,  dug  a hole,  put  it  in,  fired  three  rounds  of  musketry 
over  it,  then  buried  it.  After  that  they  got  bacon,  and  in 
two  weeks  afterward  bacon  was  issued  to  us  regularly,  a 
quarter  of  a pound  being  the  allowance  per  man  for  a day, 
and  we  were  rejoiced  at  the  change. 

“ No  clothing  was  issued  to  us  by  the  Confederate  authori- 
ties during  our  imprisonment,  except  a few  very  coarse  hats 


CAMP  FORD,  TEXAS. 


66 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


and  shoes.  I saw  men  go  for  months  without  a shirt  to  thei : 
back,  and  no  covering  but  a pair  of  ragged  pants  or  drawers. 
Lieut.-Colonel  Leake,  of  Iowa,  with  about  four  hundred  men, 
had  spent  the  previous  winter  in  the  stockade,  and  were  for- 
warded  for  exchange  in  July.  When  they  arrived  at  Shreve- 
port the  authorities  became  ashamed  of  their  naked  appear- 
ance, and  offered  to  issue  them  clothing,  but  the  brave  Colo- 
nel promptly  refused  the  offer,  saying: 

44  4 We  will  go  into  our  lines  in  the  same  condition  that  we 
have  been  prisoners.’ 

44  When  they  arrived  at  New  Orleans,  those  hardy  and 
brave  Iowa  soldiers  marched  down  Canal  street,  and  up  St. 
Charles,  past  the  headquarters  of  General  Canby,  in  almost  a 
nude  condition.  This  exhibition  of  rebel  barbarity,  together 
with  the  statements  of  the  officers  exchanged,  stirred  up  our 
authorities,  and  started  negotiations  with  the  rebel  authorities, 
which  resulted  in  our  receiving  on  the  2d  day  of  October* 
from  our  authorities  at  New  Orleans,  1,500  complete  suits  of 
United  States  clothing  and  1,500  blankets.  At  the  time  the 
clothing  was  received  there  were  about  3,300  prisoners,  and  an 
inventory  of  the  camp,  ordered  by  myself  to  ascertain  the 
destitution  before  the  issue  of  the  new  clothing,  showed  but 
1,500  blankets  or  parts  of  blankets  in  the  stockade.  The 
issue  of  this  clothing,  and  especially  the  blankets,  was  truly  a 
godsend  to  the  camp,  and  gave  it  a very  different  appear- 
ance. On  the  25th  of  January  another  batch  of  clothing  of 
about  1,200  suits  arrived  from  the  same  source,  and  this  sup- 
plied our  wants  fairly  during  the  remainder  of  our  imprison- 
ment. From  the  first  of  our  imprisonment,  rumors  of  ex- 
change were  kept  afloat,  and  hopes  of  getting  free  never 
seemed  more  than  a month  or  six  weeks  ahead.  While  this 
was  orobably  done  by  the  rebels  to  keep  us  from  escaping,  it 
answered  a good  purpose  in  keeping  us  hopeful.  Many,  how  ■ 
ever,  grew  restless,  and  made  the  attempt  to  exchange  them- 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


67 


selves.  Plans  of  escape  were  numerous.  The  digging  out 
process  was  resorted  to,  but  did  not  succeed,  although  one 
hole  was  made  for  more  than  1 50  feet,  and  had  reached  the 
outside  before  discovery.  Bribing  the  guard  was  done  in 
many  instances,  forged  passes  in  others,  and  quite  a number 
were  taken  out  in  the  dirt  cart  that  removed  the  rubbish  from 
the  camp.  When  this  was  found  out,  the  boy  who  drove  the 
cart  was  suddenly  relieved  of  his  position,  and  each  load 
thereafter  was  probed  with  swords  or  bayonets. 

“ The  greatest  difficulty  in  escaping  was  after  we  were 
outside.  With  three  hundred  miles  between  us  and  the  near- 
est point  in  our  lines,  every  white  man  between  eighteen  and 
sixty  years  a soldier,  and  packs  of  bloodhounds  kept  for  the 
purpose  which  could  take  a trail  twenty-four  hours  old,  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  get  through.  Yet  quite  a number  suc- 
ceeded. But  the  majority  were  recaptured,  brought  back? 
and  at  first  severely  punished.  Captain  Reid,  of  a Missouri 
regiment,  was  ordered  to  stand  on  the  head  of  a barrel  bare- 
headed and  barefooted  in  the  hot  sun  eight  hours  a day  for 
two  weeks.  Some  were  tied  up  by  the  thumbs;  others  stood 
on  a stump  cut  with  a right  and  leftscarf  for  two  hours  at  a 
time,  with  a guard  standing  by  who  had  orders  to  shoot  if  a 
foot  was  lifted.  Those  who  tried  it  said  it  was  exceedingly 
severe. 

“ One  of  the  hardest  cases  of  failure  I remember  was  that 
of  Major  Bering  and  Lieutenant  Srofe,  of  the  48th  Ohio.  They 
had  been  out  twenty-one  days,  and  were  within  three  days’ 
travel  of  our  lines  when  recaptured.  On  their  way  back  they 
met  the  rest  of  their  regiment  going  forward  for  exchange, 
t but  were  not  permitted  to  go  with  it,  and  thus  endured  six 
months  more  imprisonment  for  their  effort  to  free  themselves. 

w The  devices  to  while  away  time  while  prisoners, 
were  many  and  varied.  Chess  was  the  principal  game,  and 
the  demand  for  chessmen  created  quite  a business  for  a former 


68 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


prisoner  who  had  erected  a turning  lathe.  The  games  of 
checkers,  cribbage  and  cards,  were  also  prominent.  Then  we 
had  the  gambler  with  his  chuck-a-luck  board  and  keno  bank, 
which  relieved  many  a poor  fellow  of  what  little  cash  he  had 
brought  with  him.  The  banker  was  there  to  exchange 
greenbacks  for  Confederate  money  or  specie.  At  our  en- 
trance Confederate  money  was  ten  to  one  in  greenbacks,  and 
gradually  increased  to  twenty,  thirty,  forty  and  sixty,  and  for 
some  months  before  our  imprisonment  closed,  it  was  entirely 
defunct.  Specie  took  its  place  in  trade  with  the  outside.  Our 
specie  cost  us  on  an  average  from  eight  to  ten  dollars  in 
greenbacks  to  one  in  gold  or  silver.  I bought  flour  at  the 
rate  of  six  dollars  per  hundred  pounds  in  specie,  when  each 
specie  dollar  cost  us  ten  dollars  in  greenbacks.  We  also  had 
the  baker  who  sold  biscuits  at  twenty-five  cents  apiece,  and 
sweet  potato  pies  for  one  dollar.  The  barber,  the  tailor,  and 
the  shoemaker  plied  their  avocations,  and  many  of  the  prison- 
ers manufactured  combs,  pipes,  rings,  and  trinkets  in  abund- 
ance from  the  horns  of  the  slaughtered  cattle.  Violins  and 
banjos  were  made,  the  strings  being  taken  from  the  sinews  of 
the  beeves,  so  that,  notwithstanding  the  solitude  of  the  place, 
we  had  music  and  dancing  during  the  long  winter  evenings. 
The  religious  element  was  also  strongly  manifested.  A 
Bible  class  was  held  every  morning  in  good  weather,  and  a 
prayer  meeting  every  evening.  Public  services  were  held  on 
the  Sabbath,  at  first  by  captured  chaplains,  and  after  they 
were  released,  by  laymen.  On  two  occasions  the  chaplain  of 
the  guard  preached  to  us,  and  was  listened  to  attentively  by 
an  audience  of  at  least  one  thousand.  He  exhibited  surprise 
at  the  result,  but  I told  him  we  were  at  least  partially 
civilized. 

ctYet  thieves  and  the  lower  classes  of  humanity  were 
there  also,  and  human  nature  was  exhibited  in  lower  phases 
than  I ever  saw  it  before,  A few  thieves,  who  were  at  one 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  69 

time  caught  in  the  act,  were  punished  by  being  dipped  in  the 
sinks  by  the  exasperated  crowd. 

“We  had  four  different  commandants  while  I was  there. 
First,  Colonel  Allen,  a Kentuckian,  who  wore  the  uniform  of 
a United  States  officer  of  the  line,  when  he  wanted  to  appear 
well.  He  said  he  could  sometimes  wish  we  would  all  find 
Southern  graves.  The  next  was  Colonel  Sweet,  who  was  at 
one  time  a resident  of  Chicago.  In  conversation  he  told  me 
he  did  not  want  a Republican  government— that  it  was  noth- 
ing but  a mob , and  the  will  of  the  majority  was  the  worst 
tyrant  on  earth.  The  next  was  Colonel  Brown,  commander 
of  a regiment  of  what  appeared  to  be  F.  F.’s,  of  Texas.  He 
had  been  in  the  Texan  war,  and  a prisoner  in  Mexico;  and 
although  he  was  one  of  the  roughest  men  I ever  met,  he  had 
a heart  in  him,  and  did  many  things  for  our  comfort,  when 
suggested  to  him.  The  last  was  Lieut.-Colonel  Jamison,  who 
had  been  wounded  in  the  army  of  Virginia,  and  was  now 
given  command  of  a regiment  of  home  guards.  This  man, 
while  one  of  the  most  bitter  of  rebels,  was  gentlemanly,  and 
used  more  leniency  than  any  of  his  predecessors. 

“ When  the  spring  opened  the  boys  inaugurated  a scheme 
to  get  some  fresh  vegetables  for  summer  use.  Captain  Watt  of 
the  130th  Illinois,  an  old  man,  was  granted  the  privilege  of 
taking  out  a few  men  on  parole  of  honor  to  make  a garden 
in  a field  near  by,  and  after  fencing  a lot  was  promised  a mule 
and  plow.  He  failed  to  get  the  mule,  but  took  out  ten  Yan- 
kees and  hitched  them  to  the  plow,  and  did  good  execution. 
Before  we  left,  he  and  others  had  the  pleasure  of  eating  some 
vegetables  of  his  own  raising.  And  thus  Colonel  Jamison, 
while  he  could  do  but  little  for  us  with  the  means  under  his 
control,  was  disposed  to  let  us  do  for  ourselves  many  things 
which  benefited  us. 

u Our  knowledge  of  the  outside  world  came  mainly 
through  the  Houston  ‘ Daily  Telegraph,’  which  was  sent  to 


7o 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIViL  WAR. 


Captain  Crocker,  a gunboat-man,  by  a friend;  and  also  from 
new  prisoners.  We  received  no  mail  from  our  line  for  about 
five  months,  and  after  that  probably  once  a month.  The 
Christian  Commission  sent  us  a box  of  books  from  New 
Orleans  at  one  time,  which  was  greatly  prized. 

“ Our  prison  was  watered  by  a spring  which  rose  in  one 
corner  of  the  stockade,  and  was  sufficient,  most  of  the  time, 
for  drinking  and  cleansing  purposes,  but  in  their  dejected 
condition  many  made  poor  use  of  it.  The  atmosphere  of 
the  stockade  during  the  late  summer  months  became  almost 
unbearable,  from  a bad  arrangement  of  our  sinks;  but  a 
new  person  being  put  in  command  of  the  inside  about  the 
ist  of  October,  made  suggestions  which  the  commandant 
allowed  him  to  carry  out,  and  relieved  us  ever  afterward.  He 
gave  us  a fine  ball  ground  which  was  well  occupied  and 
proved  a blessing. 

“ We  were  guarded  by  a cordon  of  guards  outside  the 
stockade,  who  had  orders  to  shoot  any  prisoner  who  came 
nearer  than  ten  feet  to  the  stockade.  In  a number  of 
cases  men  were  shot  who  neither  violated  the  rule,  nor 
showed  any  intention  of  doing  so.  The  guards  generally 
were  not  hostile  to  us,  and  in  very  many  cases  friendly;  but 
there  were  sons  of  Belial  among  them  who  took  advantage 
of  their  position  to  immortalize  themselves  by  killing  a Yan- 
kee; yet  the  officers  gave  us  no  relief. 

“ The  mortality  of  prison  life  was  varied,  some  regiments 
and  squads  losing  one-fourth,  some  one-third,  and  in  one  in- 
stance one-half  their  number, while  in  others  scarcely  any  died. 
So  that  while  the  treatment  was  inhuman  and  will  always  be 
a foul  blot  on  the  Confederate  record,  yet  my  observation 
was  that  the  disposition,  character,  and  habits  of  the  men  had 
a great  deal  to  do  with  the  mortality  of  prison  life.  The 
greatest  number  in  the  prison  at  one  time  was  about  4,700, 
and  that  was  reduced  by  various  exchanges  to  1,700  when  the 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  CF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


71 


camp  was  broken  up.  We  left  282  dead  on  a hill  opposite 
the  stockade,  which  was  neatly  fenced  with  post  and  rail  by  a 
squad  of  our  own  men  before  we  left. 

“ Thirteen  months  had  passed  since  we  entered  the  stock- 
ade, and  now  the  end  approaches.  News  had  been  received  of 
the  surrender  of  Lee  and  Johnston,  and  we  knew  the  time 
for  our  departure  must  be  near.  The  paroling  officer,  whom 
we  were  always  glad  to  see,  came  with  the  news  that  we 
were  all  to  be  sent  home.  I shall  never  forget  my  feelings 
and  emotions,  as  I reveled  in  them  the  whole  of  the  follow- 
ing night  without  any  sleep.  The  next  day  we  were  paroled 
for  exchange,  as  a mere  form  on  their  part.  We  had  the  no- 
toriety of  being  the  last  prisoners  held  by  the  defunct  Confed- 
eracy, and  1,700  of  us  are  yet  on  parole  for  exchange . The 
next  night  the  militia  who  had  been  guarding  us  for  several 
months  packed  up  their  traps  and  left  for  their  homes,  leav- 
ing us  but  a few  regular  soldiers,  who  did  not  pretend  to 
guard  us  further.  On  the  17th  of  May,  1865,  we  started  on 
the  march  for  Shreveport,  120  miles  distant,  where  we  ar- 
rived through  considerable  trial  and  suffering  on  the  2 2d. 
Thence  we  took  boats  down  Red  River  to  its  mouth,  and  on 
the  27th  glided  safely  into  the  father  of  waters,  once  more 
under  the  protection  of  the  old  flag.” 

“ The  reason  the  troops  were  scattered  so  at  Sabine  Cross 
Roads,”  said  Mr.  Arnold,  of  the  23d  Wisconsin,  “ was  this 
fact:  In  the  final  arrangement  after  the  endless  reorganizing 

that  followed  the  Vicksburg  campaign,  the  13th  and  19th 
Army  Corps  were  set  off  together.  The  boys  of  the  19th 
had  not  seen  quite  such  hard  times  as  the  13th  boys,  and  had 
better  clothes.  Some  of  the  soldiers  from  Illinois  regiments 
at  this  time  were  wretchedly  clad,  which  condition,  of  course, 
they  themselves  could  not  remedy.  Thinking  to  show  off  a 
little,  a few  of  the  19th  boys  began  to  call  their  Illinois  com- 
rades rag-a-muffins,  threadbare  guerillas,  etc.  This  wounded 


72 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


the  pride  of  the  Sucker  State  soldiers,  who  felt  that  such  epi- 
thets  were  unmerited,  and  they  replied  that  if  they  had  had 
no  clothes  at  all,  they  could  out-fight  the  19th  Corps  on  the 
stormiest  day  of  the  war.  The  remarks  were  soon  current, 
and  the  feeling  spread  among  the  respective  corps,  until  the 
whole  was  leavened.  For  a time  it  was  thought  that  there 
would  be  business  right  there  and  then;  but  the  commanders 
kept  the  corps  camped  separately  until  the  ill-starred  breeze 
blew  over,  and  thus  saved  a possible  disgrace  to  both  corps. 
But  this,  I believe,  was  the  reason  that  the  13th  and  19th 
Corps  could  not  be  kept  within  six  or  eight  miles  of  each 
other  for  awhile.” 

The  above  explanation  was  heard  with  considerable  in- 
terest, and  then  the  camp-fire  adjourned. 


CAMP-FIRE  VI. 


44  SLAP-JACKS  ” A TRIP  UP  THE  TENNESSEE THE  HORRORS 

OF  VALLEY  FORGE  REPEATED BULLETS  AND  ETI- 
QUETTE  44  COPPER-HEADS.” 

ILLIONS  of  readers  of  the  records  made  by  the  So- 
ciety for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished  History 
will  fully  understand  at  the  first  glance  the  exact  and 
practical  significance  of  the  compound  word  which  introduces 
this  camp-fire;  but  that  it  may  be  intelligible  to  the  million- 
and-first  student  of  history,  and  that  it  may  be  one  more  fact 
put  on  record  for  the  benefit  of  unlearned  posterity,  the  So- 
ciety hereby  gives  to  the  world  the  subjoined  etymological  and 
historical  conclusion,  obtained  at  great  outlay  of  money  and 
sacrifice  of  health  in  the  research,  and  great  delay  in  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  chats. 

As  has  been  communicated  in  the  rhapsody  just  got  rid 
of,  44  slap-jacks  ” is  a compound  word.  It  is  compound  not 
only  in  form,  but  in  meaning;  for  the  material  which  entered 
into  the  preparation  of  44  slap-jacks  ” consisted  of  almost  any 
powdered  substance  from  brick-dust  up  to  crushed  saw-logs, 
the  series  including  wheat,  oats,  corn,  horse-feed,  44  wood,  hay, 
stubble,”  and  so  forth.  The  word  is  also  hybrid,  being 
wrenched  from  the  literature  of  two  separate  and  distinct 
races  of  humanity;  and  a mongrel  of  the  ages,  as  it  is  an  off- 
spring of  two  classical  developments  which  were  parted  by 
a period  of  two  thousand  years.  This  is  believed  to  be  the 
history  of  the  word,  and  the  following  is  the  etymology: 
44  Slap-jacks  ” is  derived  from  the  Greek  BdAAw,  hurl , hit / 

73 


74 


CAMf  _ xRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


or,  the  Anglo-Saxon  strike  (see  Webster’s  Unabridged  Dic- 
tionary, p.  1308,  col.  1),  hence,  Anglo-American  slap ; and 
from  the  German  john , hence  the  Anglo-American  jack , 
which  was  in  its  primitive  use,  a proper  noun,  and  traces  of 
that  use  still  linger  in  the  dialect  of  the  marine  corps  of  the 
day;  but  from  its  symphony  and  the  ease  of  its  application 
it  came  to  have  a variety  of  meanings.  From  this  it  will  be 
observed  readily  that  44 jacks”  was  just  the  word  to  com- 
bine with  44  slap  ” in  order  to  make  44  slap-jacks.” 

u Slap-jacks  ” was  always  used  in  the  plural,  owing  to 
a difficulty  which  arose  in  their  manufacture.  The  pulver- 
ized material,  usually  corn  meal  or  flour,  which  was  the  prin- 
cipal ingredient,  was  placed  on  a rubber  blanket,  or  in  any 
convenient  small  cavity — sometimes  the  end  of  a hollow  log 
— and  then  die  other  ingredient,  water,  was  poured  into  it, 
and  a mush  made.  Salt  was  sometimes  added,  when  the  sol- 
diers had  it,  but  it  was  not  necessary.  A handful  of  this  mush 
was  then  suddenly  put  against  the  side  of  a board,  and  placed 
near  the  camp-fire  to  brown,  or  at  least  to  dry  out.  The 
mush  was  called  44  jack  ” and  the  operation  of  placing  it  on 
the  board  was  called  44  slap;”  but  just  as  the  consummation 
was  being  devoutly  carried  out,  some  of  the  44  jack  ” would 
slip  through  the  fingers  of  the  slapper,  fall  to  the  ground,  and 
make  more  than  one  44  slap-jack.”  Again,  after  the  mixture 
was  on  the  board  near  the  fire,  part  of  it  would  slip  down  the 
tilted  edge  of  the  board,  and  become  plural  once  more.  So 
that  it  was  not  possible  to  manufacture  44  slap-jacks  ” in  the 
singular,  and  the  use  of  the  word  in  that  number  became 
obsolete. 

It  is  hoped  that,  after  the  foregoing  elaborate  treatise  on 
the  language  of  the  army,  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of 
Unpublished  History  will  not  have  to  explain  that  44  slap- 
jacks ” is  the  military  word  for  pan-cakes.  The  following 
incident,  related  by  F.  O.  White  Company  A,  Cavalry,  36th 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  75 

Illinois,  may  give  the  student  some  idea  of  this  article  of 
army  diet: 

“ It  was  near  Keatsville,  Mo.,  just  before  the  battle  of 
Pea  Ridge.  Many  of  our  boys  were  expert  bookkeepers, 
and  when  they  passed  a country  store,  they  usually  took  an 
inventory  of  the  stock  on  hand,  though  they  were  never  very 
careful  whetner  they  left  anything  in  the  store. 

“ We  finally  came  to  a store  which  had  drugs  on  one  side 
and  groceries  on  the  other;  so  we  made  a good  haul.  We 
got  plenty  of  flour  and  other  material  for  4 slap-jacks,’  includ- 
ing some  saleratus,  as  we  thought;  but  to  make  sure  of  it,  we 
passed  it  to  one  of  the  boys  who  knew  something  about 
chemistry,  for  him  to  analyze.  He  assured  us  that  we  were 
right;  so  we  felt  a glow  of  satisfaction  that  we  were  to  have 
‘ slap-jacks  ’ that  evening  with  saleratus  in  them. 

“ We  went  into  camp  and  made  up  a large  quantity  of 
them,  but  as  they  did  not  get  very  light,  we  thought  that  the 
cook  had  put  too  much  saleratus  in;  yet  we  would  not  allow 
that  to  make  any  difference,  as  we  had  had  no  saleratus  in  our 
c slap-jacks’  for  along  time,  and  could  tolerate  a goodly  dose. 
They  were  served  up  in  good  style,  and  the  boys  ate  plenti- 
fully of  them.  Soon,  however,  the  boys  began  to  leave  camp, 
one  at  a time;  then  they  went  by  twos  and  threes,  and  finally 
the  camp  was  nearly  deserted,  almost  the  entire  number 
having  been  attacked  with  sudden  illness.  Alas!  all  who 
had  partaken  of  the  delicious  but  traitorous  ‘slap-jacks’  were 
now  compelled  to  play  the  part  of  artesian  wells — the  cakes 
had  begun  to  rise!  In  the  morning  the  suspicious  saleratus 
was  taken  to  a reliable  chemist,  who  found  that  it  was  tartar 
emetic .” 

This  incident  was  followed  by  one  from  a soldier  of  Com- 
pany C,  20th  Illinois: 

“ While  on  the  march  near  Rolla,  Mo.,  our  rations  ran 
short,  and  Lieutenant  Moore,  of  our  company,  picked  up  about 


76 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


ioo  pounds  of  new  buckwheat  flour.  He  carried  it  more  than 
two  miles,  and  meeting  Lieutenant  Hall,  gave  him  an  invita- 
tion to  call  at  headquarters  for  supper  that  evening,  and  they 
would  feast  on  buckwheat  cakes.  The  army  had  gone  into 
camp,  and  Lieutenant  Moore  delivered  the  flour  to  the  cook, 
with  instructions  to  make  up  a good  supply  of  cakes,  as  he 
expected  Lieutenant  Hall  to  sup  with  him. 

44  The  cook  proceeded  to  mix  the  cakes,  applying  the 
necessary  seasoning  (all  he  had),  and  the  supper  was  soon 
ready.  Lieutenant  Hall  arrived,  and  the  cakes  were  brought 
before  the  host  and  his  guest.  The  guest  was  the  first  to  par- 
take of  the  delicacy,  and  after  he  had  waited  until  the  host 
had  tasted  it,  said : 

444  Is  this  the  buckwheat  you  carried  two  miles?” 

44  4 Yes,’  said  Lieutenant  Moore;  ‘tastes  rather  queer, 
doesn’t  it?’ 

44 4 I am  quite  of  your  opinion,’  replied  Lieutenant  Hall, 
4 as  it  is  nothing  in  the  world  but  plaster-of-Paris.’ 

44  Lieutenant  Moore  declared  that  it  was  no  joke,  and  this 
assurance  was  made  doubly  sure  by  the  cook,  who  just  then 
made  his  appearance  and  said: 

444  Mars’  Cap’n,  thought  dat  risin’  didn’t  take  effec’  in 
dat  buckwheat  jes  right,  ha!  ha!  ha!1  Exit  cook,  right; 
Lieutenants  Hall  and  Moore,  left.’7 

This  disclosure  put  the  camp-fire  attendants  into  a merry 
mood,  and  the  regular  order  of  business  was  proceeded  with, 
Gen.  Ira  J.  Bloomfield,  of  the  26th  Illinois,  speaking: 

44  After  the  battle  of  Chickamauga  we  came  up  the  river 
from  Vicksburg  to  Memphis,  and  marched  across  the  country 
to  Chattanooga  just  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  battle  of  Mis- 
sion Ridge,  on  the  25th  day  of  November,  1863.  The  next 
morning  we  pursued  the  Johnnies  to  Ringgold  Gap,  and  then 
turned  up  the  Tennessee  River  to  the  relief  of  Burnside,  who 
was  penned  up  in  Knoxville  by  Longstreet. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


77 


“We  had  left  all  our  baggage-wagons  and  supplies  be- 
hind, and  as  we  went  up  the  Tennessee  Valley  we  lived  ofl 
the  country,  having  foraging  parties  out  ahead  of  us  to  collect 
provisions  from  the  houses,  and  to  grind  the  wheat  and  corn 
in  the  numerous  mills.  Details  of  soldiers  kept  the  mills  run- 
ning all  night. 

“ I never  saw  greater  manifestations  of  loyalty  in  my  life 
than  were  shown  by  the  people  of  East  Tennessee.  All  the 
able-bodied  men  were  in  the  army,  but  the  women  and  chil- 
dren would  stand  at  the  roadside  and  say  to  us: 

“ ‘ Go  to  the  house  and  take  all  we  have.  We  have  friends 
where  we  can  get  more.’  One  woman,  when  she  saw  the 
Union  troops,  shouted: 

“ 4 Glory  to  God!  I knew  you  would  come!  I have  two 
brothers  in  the  Union  army,  and  I wish  I had  forty  more.’ 
“We  lived  well  going  up  toward  Knoxville,  but  when  we 
came  back,  a few  weeks  later,  it  was  hard  foraging.  One 
night  at  the  Hiawassie  we  had  nothing  to  give  the  men  but 
wheat  bran  that  we  had  left  in  the  mill  there  when  we  went 
up.  Next  morning,  as  we  sat  upon  our  horses  and  the  men 
filed  out  into  the  road  to  resume  the  march,  Private  Lemmon, 
of  Company  D,  a comical  genius,  who  was  always  playing 
some  kind  of  a joke,  cried  out:  c Colonel!  colonel!  are  you 

going  to  issue  us  oats  in  the  sheaf  to-night?’ 

“ Most  of  the  time  during  our  trip  up  the  Tennessee  River 
that  fall  the  weather  was  fine,  and  except  when  out  of  food,  we 
got  along  splendidly,  but  being  so  long  without  a change  of 
clothing,  officers  as  well  as  men  became  infested  with  vermin, 
so  that  when  a halt  was  made  every  one  must  needs  seize  the 
opportunity  to  relieve  himself  of  such  forbidding  intruders. 

“ Many  of  the  men  suffered  greatly  for  tobacco.  One 
night,  near  Marysville,  I heard  of  a tobacco  factory  about  six 
miles  off  from  our  line  of  march.  I sent  a lieutenant  and  a 
squad  of  men  to  bring  in  a supply,  and  the  next  day  about 


7$  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

io  o’clock  they  overtook  us  with  a wagon-load  of  4 Silver 
Heels’  tobacco,  which  we  distributed  to  the  men.  Many  a 
poor  soldier  was  made  happy  that  day,  and  the  effects  of  the 
tobacco  could  be  seen  in  the  livelier  step  on  the  march  and  in 
the  renewed  joking  and  laughter. 

44  The  weather  remained  fine  until  within  two  days’  march 
of  Chattanooga,  when  it  suddenly  turned  cold.  The  ground 
froze,  and  ice  formed  on  the  streams  and  along  the  road.  The 
long  march  from  Memphis  to  Chattanooga,  and  from  there 
up  to  Knoxville  without  supplies,  had  worn  out  the  shoes  of 
the  men  so  that  when  the  cold  set  in  many  of  them  were  bare- 
footed, and  had  to  make  the  last  day’s  march  in  that  condition 
over  the  ice  and  frozen  ground.  Their  feet  were  so  lacerated 
that  we  sent  them  from  Chattanooga  to  Bridgeport,  down  the 
Tennessee  River,  in  an  open  scow.  That  was  the  day  before 
Christmas,  and  the  suffering  of  those  poor  fellows  with  their 
sore  feet  and  the  exposure  to  the  cold  winds  in  their  open  boat, 
was  sad  indeed.  Their  feet  became  so  inflamed  and  sore  that 
when  they  got  back  to  Springfield,  111.,  Jan.  22,  1864,  on  vet- 
eran furlough,  many  of  them  were  unable  to  wear  shoes,  hav- 
ing their  feet  bundled  up  in  old  rags.  I never  expected  to 
see  the  horrors  of  Valley  Forge  or  anything  akin  to  it,  but 
what  I have  related  is  only  a faint  picture  of  what  those 
poor  soldiers  suffered. 

44  While  speaking  about  feet,  I have  been  reminded  of  a 
state  of  affairs  that  came  about  at  the  close  of  the  war.  In 
the  spring  of  1865,  at  the  grand  review  at  Washington,  a 
number  of  my  men  were  without  shoes,  but  then  the  weather 
was  warm,  and  it  caused  no  suffering.  The  long  march  from 
Savannah,  Ga.,  up  through  the  Carolinas,  and  thence,  via 
Richmond,  to  Washington,  had  worn  out  their  shoes,  and 
when  we  stopped  at  Alexandria,  Va.,  to  refit,  I could  not 
find  with  any  of  the  quartermasters  shoes  large  enough  to  fit 
eight  or  ten  of  my  men.  They  had  not  calculated  on  supply- 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


79 


ing  our  big  Western  boys,  and  had  neither  Nos.  n nor  12. 
I told  the  men  that  they  need  not  take  part  in  the  grand  re- 
view. But  they  wanted  to  be  there,  and  did  actually  march 
down  Pennsylvania  Avenue  barefooted,  but  with  steady  step, 
keeping  time  to  the  music  of  the  Union. 

“ To  show  you  how  tough  and  hard  these  men  were  after 
their  long  marches,  sieges,  and  battles,  I must  give  you  a little 
incident  that  occurred  near  Mount  Vernon.  We  had  turned 
aside  there  to  visit  the  tomb  of  Washington.  While  march- 
ing along  one  day  near  a small  town  called  Dumfries,  where 
a bright  little  stream  ran  across  the  road  to  empty  itself  into 
the  Chesapeake  Bay,  we  came  to  a narrow  foot-bridge 
which  spanned  it.  Our  usual  marching  order  was  in  a column 
of  four  front,  but  the  bridge  was  so  narrow  that  we  had  to 
undouble,  which  caused  some  little  delay  in  the  march.  While 
sitting  on  my  horse  waiting  for  the  crossing,  I heard  some 
angry  words,  and  turned  just  in  time  to  see  one  man  strike 
another  a terrible  blow  across  the  face  with  his  musket, 
tumbling  the  latter  off  the  foot-bridge  into  the  water  below. 
I rode  back  to  see  about  caring  for  the  injured  man,  but  be- 
fore I could  reach  him  he  picked  up  his  knapsack  and  gun, 
and  took  his  place  again  in  the  ranks  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened. The  next  morning  when  I went  out  to  look  after 
him,  the  only  signs  left  of  the  blow  was  a slight  black  spot 
under  each  eye.  Such  a blow  across,  the  face  of  a civilian 
would  have  laid  him  up  for  a month;  but  these  men  were 
tough  and  hard,  for  they  had  been  brought  down  to  solid 
fighting  weight  by  long  service  in  the  open  field.” 

General  Bloomfield,  who  now  depends  on  his  legal  skill 
for  his  rations,  then  informed  the  hearers  that  he  could  not  be 
with  them  hereafter,  as  he  was  about  to  take  command  of  a 
relief  expedition  in  a divorce  suit;  but,  whether  it  was  apropos 
or  not,  he  would  relate  one  more  incident  to  show  that  bullets  in 
war  often  become  ungraceful  and  over-step  the  rules  of  etiquette. 


8o 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“ A volley  of  musketry  has  very  little  respect,”  he  said, 
“ for  titles  or  rank  in  army  society ; and  it  is  generally  true 
that  there  are  soldiers  in  both  opposing  armies  who  aim  at 
sashes  and  badges. 

“On  the  morning  of  the  battle  of  Mission  Ridge,  Col. 
Timothy  O’Meary,  of  the  90th  Illinois,  came  into  line  of 
battle  wearing  a blue  flannel  suit  and  a bright  red  sash 
around  his  waist.  Col.  John  Mason  Loomis,  the  brigade 
commander,  warned  him  of  the  danger,  saying: 

“ c Colonel,  we  have  to  go  down  over  that  open  field,  and 
the  hill  on  the  other  side  is  full  of  sharpshooters.  Your  sash 
will  furnish  a good  mark  for  them!  ’ But  the  gallant  colonel 
only  smiled  and  held  up  a picture  of  the  Virgin  Mary  that  he 
always  wore  suspended  by  a cord  around  his  neck,  replying: 
“ 4 They  cannot  hurt  me  while  I have  this.5  A few  min- 
utes later  he  lay  weltering  in  his  blood,  mortally  wounded  by 
a rifle  ball  through  his  left  side,  just  below  the  heart.” 

Doubtless  this  incident  will  remind  the  veterans  of  1861- 
’65  of  whole  bookfuls  of  similar  happenings.  It  reminded 
Maj.  M.  B.  Parmeter,  of  the  77th  Illinois,  of  one,  which 
must  be  prefaced  with  an  explanation: 

There  was  a type  of  combatant  in  the  North  during  the 
war  known  as  “ copper-head,”  the  more  virulent  class  of 
which  were  members  of  the  “ Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle;” 
the  milder  developments  were  less  haughty,  and  were  some- 
times known  as  “ plain  copper-heads.”  But  it  is  to  the  good 
feeling  of  all  who  stood  by  their  country  in  the  hour  of  her 
need,  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  included,  that  this  entire  type  of  citi- 
zens was  limited,  though  the  epithet  was  applied  to  many 
without  desert. 

It  must  not  be  understood  by  the  term  “ combatant”  that 
the  main  pillars  of  the  K.  of  the  G.  C.,  with  their  adherents, 
were  soldiers;  for  they  kept  as  far  to  the  rear  as  possible. 
They  were  combatants  in  everything  except  business^  the 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


81 


front,  and  lacked  the  first  principles  of  soldiership — patriotism 
and  moral  courage.  They  combated  the  policy  of  war  from 
innate  cowardice,  more  than  from  their  love  of  peace;  they 
decried  emancipation  because  their  opponents  upheld  it;  op- 
posed the  government  because  it  was  not  under  their  own 
direction.  When  the  last  call  for  troops  was  made,  they 
were  in  sore  lament.  Already  there  were  nearly  a mil- 
lion soldiers  in  the  field  (and  this  was  a thrust  at  all 
soldiers) — every  man  who  became  a soldier,  and  was  de- 
tailed to  forage,  was  no  better  than  a thief,  they  said.  Think 
of  it — a million  thieves  turned  loose  upon  the  unprotected 
citizens  of  the  country!  O temporal  O mores ! How  homely 
to  these  44  unprotected  citizens  ” was  the  beautiful  picture  of 
the  great  concourse  of  a nation’s  children  scattering  to  their 
peaceful  homes  across  broad  prairies,  over  mountains  and 
through  glens,  to  plow,  preach,  and  pound  anvils! 

But  there  came  a day  when  the  clatter  of  their  loose 
tongues  was  hushed.  No  more  did  they  stand  behind  a tree 
and  demand  peace.  For  then  it  was  that  their  great  relative. 
Uncle  Sam,  made  a suggestion  in  the  form  of  a draft  that  all 
his  able-bodied  male  relations  over  twenty-one  years  of  age 
and  under  forty-five,  should  come  to  his  assistance  at  once. 
But  now  was  44  the  winter  of  their  discontent.”  They  dis- 
claimed all  kinship.  They  sought  44  British  protection.”' 
Their  able  bodies  began  to  pedestrianize,  and  did  not  cease 
that  operation  until  they  had  found  a home  in  Canada.  Like 
other  fractions  of  humanity,  when  a relative  is  in  affluence  he 
is  very  dear  to  them;  but  place  him  in  durance  vile,  and  they 
seem  like  residents  of  Neptune.  When  the  tills  of  the  nation 
are  overflowing  with  the  golden  coin,  each  of  the  former  44  un- 
protected citizens  ” is  a noble  foster  of  the  44  best  government 
God  ever  gave  to  man;”  but  let  the  Executive  call  for  needed 
service,  and  they  deny  their  allegiance — vile  treason  sits  on 
manhood’s  throne! 

6 % 


82 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


With  the  foregoing  revery  rehearsed,  Major  Parmeter's 
remarks  may  be  better  appreciated: 

44  It  was  just  before  the  capture  of  Vicksburg,  and  the 
draft  had  just  come  into  full  blast.  The  majority  of  the 
Peace  Faction  at  the  North  had  either  become  quiet  or  gone 
on  an  expedition  to  Labrador,  or  in  that  direction.  At  any 
rate,  they  were  not  very  boisterous  around  their  former  neigh- 
borhoods. Some  of  them  went  South,  but  not  for  the  pur- 
pose of  joining  the  army. 

4 Among  the  latter  was  a physician  from  my  old  home  who 
was  apparently  well  read,  but  nevertheless  was  a mild  cop- 
per-head. It  made  him  nervous  to  see  so  many  of  the  boys 
going  off  to  the  war,  and  he  took  it  upon  himself  to  act  as  a 
sort  of  missionary  for  their  return.  He  seemed  especially  in- 
terested in  a young  fellow  by  the  name  of  Buckingham,  and 
came  to  Vicksburg  to  persuade  the  young  man  with  others  to 
return  home. 

44  But  no  persuasion  for  Buckingham ; he  was  too  enthusi- 
astic. The  doctor  remained  several  days,  and  as  he  became 
bolder  and  found  more  old  acquaintances,  he  began  to  get 
nearer  to  the  front.  One  day  he  came  out  on  skirmish  line, 
where  several  of  the  home  boys  were,  and  began  his  mission- 
ary work,  talking  about  the  old  times  at  home.  Pretty  soon 
the  Johnnies  opened  fire  on  us,  and  the  skirmishers  began  to 
seek  shelter.  Having  had  considerable  experience  in  the  busi- 
ness, the  boys  were  expert  in  getting  behind  the  works,  but 
the  doctor  was  left  out.  A spent  ball  just  then  grazed  his 
clothes,  and,  with  a look  of  fright  and  surprise,  he  ran  for  the 
works,  exclaiming: 

44  4 Why,  I didn’t  suppose  they  would  shoot  a citizen  P 
44  4 Yes,  sir,’  said  one  of  the  boys,  4 shoot  you  as  soon  as 
any  other  copper-head — bullets  are  no  respecters  of  persons.” 
With  the  last  two  incidents  to  show  that  the  etiquette  of 
bullets  is  yet  unwritten,  the  camp-fire  adjourned. 


CAMP-FIRE  VII. 


A BANQUET  TO  THE  S.  P.  U.  H. “ S.  B.” A CLASSICAL  EX- 

POSITION OF  THE  TERM,  AND  SOME  REMINISCENCES  FOR 
ILLUSTRATION. 

RDER ! ” said  the  commander,  as  the  tattoo  sounded,  and 
the  bugle  came  to  its  relief;  but  the  bugle  was  hoarse, 
and  the  noise  which  it  made  was  akin  to  that  of  a 
masculine  cat  in  distress,  in  the  little  hours.  The  boys  all 
laughed,  but  the  commander  rapped  on  a log  with  his  musket, 
and  the  rattle  of  the  bayonet  commanded  peace. 

Then  he  said,  “ Comrades,  I have  been  for  sometime  an- 
ticipating a feast  on  the  rare  old  dish  of  S.  B.,  and  hard-tack. 
Let’s  build  up  the  fire,  satisfy  our  hunger,  and  give  the  S.  P. 
U.  H.  a banquet.” 

Accordingly,  more  sticks  and  tree-boughs  were  placed  on 
the  fire,  and  the  preparations  proceeded.  While  the  work  was 
going  on,  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished 
History  ascertained  that  tc  S.  B.”  meant  that  particular  part 
of  swine  anatomy  which,  with  the  exception  of  the  feet,  is 
nearest  the  earth.  The  civil  name  for  it  was  “ salt  bacon;” 
later  changed  to  u breakfast-bacon,”  while  the  designation  on 
the  social  menu  is  “ fat  of  pork.”  This  abbreviation,  how- 
ever, was  applied  to  more  than  one  army  delicacy.  It  some- 
times signified  “ soaked  beans,”  sometimes  “ salt  beef;”  but 
more  frequently  was  given  to  a very  choice  dish,  made  from 
hard-tack  which  had  been  carried  on  a long  march  through 
the  rain,  then  soaked  in  river  water  during  the  night,  with 
several  changes  of  the  water,  and  fried  for  breakfast. 


84 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“ Hard  tack,”  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  learned,  was  a kind  of 
bread,  light  in  color,  which  could  not  be  affected  by  age.  In 
size,  shape  and  durability,  it  was  similar  to  the  sections  of  a 
slate  roof. 

Meantime  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished 
History  sat  by  with  great  dignity,  full  of  high  satisfaction 
that  its  members  were  soon  to  be  banqueted  and  toasted. 
When  the  coffee  and  eatables  were  ready,  the  veterans  began 
without  ceremony,  in  the  fashion  a la  if-I-don’t-get-my-share 
pretty-soon-somebody-else-will;  and  before  the  S.  P.  U.  H. 
could  come  to  a clear  understanding  of  the  situation,  and  se- 
cure the  attention  of  the  veterans,  there  was  not  enough  left 
for  one  meal  for  a ghost.  When  the  food  had  all  disap- 
peared, the  boys  perceived  that  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  had  been 
forgotten.  Many  apologies  were  offered,  but  no  hard-tack 
nor  S.  B.  Sic  vita  militaris  est. 

Then  the  national  air  was  sung: 

(Tune — America.) 

Mv  rations  are  S.  B., 

Taken  from  porkers  three 
Thousand  years  old ; 

And  hard-tack  cut  and  dried 
Long  before  Noah  died, — 

From  what  wars  left  aside 
Ne’er  can  be  told. 

There  were  originally  three  stanzas  to  this  hymn,  but  after 
it  was  sung,  while  being  handed  across  the  fire  to  the  S.  P.  U. 
H.,  two  stanzas  fell  into  the  blaze  and  were  consumed.  The 
society  now  has  the  ashes  of  the  sacred  paper  in  its  museum. 

Mr.  George  Justice,  of  Company  H,  First  Battery  18th 
U.  »S.  Infantry,  then  remembered  an  experience  which  simul- 
taneously illustrates  three  things:  The  craving  of  the  boys  for 

fresh  meat,  the  sincerity  of  Gen.  Geo.  H.  Thomas,  and  the 
able  discipline  he  imposed. 


FALL  m FOR  GRUR. 


b6  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

“ I participated  in  one  little  experience  which  I have  never 
related,  and  have  never  heard  told.  When  the  14th  Army 
Corps  laid  at  Stephenson,  Ala.,  in  1863,  General  Thomas  issued 
orders  to  the  effect  that  he  did  not  want  any  foraging;  but 
despite  such  orders  from  as  good  a man  as  ever  commanded 
a soldier,  there  were  some  who  disobeyed  them.  We  had 
been  without  fresh  pork  for  some  time,  and  my  partner,  James 
D.  Killdow,  and  myself,  concluded  we  would  have  some.  So 
one  afternoon  we  started  out;  but  we  did  not  have  to  go  very 
far  before  we  spied  a porker  that  would  weigh  about  200 
pounds,  and  we  were  not  long  in  taking  him.  We  withed 
his  legs  together,  run  a pole  through  them,  and  started  for 
camp.  By  keeping  the  woods,  we  could  slip  in  at  the  foot 
of  the  company;  but  we  had  a road  to  cross,  and  there  was 
where  the  trouble  commenced.  As  we  came  out  into  the 
open  space,  who  should  gallop  around  the  bend  but  General 
Thomas  and  staff, — just  as  we  were  thinking  about  what  a 
nice  mess  we  were  going  to  have.  He  ordered  us  to  halt, 
and  riding  up  to  us,  asked: 

“ 4 Where  do  you  men  belong? 

“cTo  the  18th  U.  S.  Infantry,’  I said. 

“ 4 Don’t  you  know  the  order  against  foraging?  ’ 

44  There  was  no  use  denying  it,  so  I replied  that  we  did. 

44 4 What  did  you  kill  that  hog  for?  ’ 

“ ‘We  wanted  some  fresh  pork,’  I said. 

444  Well,  you  will  have  to  be  disciplined  for  disobedience,’ 
and  the  general  turned  to  one  of  his  aids,  and  added:  4 Bring 
these  men  and  that  hog  up  to  headquarters.’ 

44  The  aid  ordered  us  to  pick  up  the  hog,  which  we  did,  and 
wagged  along  with  our  load.  To  our  surprise,  we  found  a 
ring  made  and  a guard  waiting  for  us,  with  orders  to  make  us 
carry  the  hog  around  that  ring  until  further  notice.  Being 
nothing  but  a boy  at  that  time,  the  hog  got  very  heavy  for 
me  in  a short  time.  I told  the  guard  that  I was  too  small 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  87 

for  that  kind  of  work,  but  he  told  me  not  to  lay  that  hog 
down.  I told  him  I must  rest  or  die  right  there. 

44 4 All  right,  be  brave  and  die  at  your  post,’  he  replied, 
with  a laugh. 

“ When  we  had  carried  the  hog  around  about  an  hour 
an  officer  approached,  and  told  us  that  General  Thomas  had 
said  we  might  have  the  hog,  as  he  thought  we  had  earned  it, 
and  that  we  would  not  be  guilty  of  such  a trick  again.  Our 
punishment  was  complete,  but  didn’t  we  drop  that  hog  in  a 
hurry?  I tell  you,  rest  never  was  so  sweet. 

44  When  we  had  rested  sufficiently,  we  took  up  our  burden, 
and  started  for  camp.  We  were  heroes  now,  and  instead 
of  slipping  in  the  back  way,  we  walked  right  down  the  front, 
across  the  parade  ground,  between  the  line  officers’  tents  and 
the  heads  of  the  companies,  past  the  head  of  our  own  com- 
pany to  our  tent.  The  orderly  sergeant  appeared  on  the 
scene  at  once,  and  ordered  us  to  take  the  hog  to  the  cook’s 
tent,  and  have  it  issued  out.  We  had  already  killed  it,  but  I 
said  4 No!  ’ Then  the  orderly  ordered  two  soldiers  to  pick  it 
up  and  take  it  to  the  cook’s  tent.  I told  Killdow  to  watch 
the  hog  until  I could  go  up  and  see  the  captain.  In  a few 
minutes  I was  at  the  captain’s  tent,  and  soon  related  the  story 
about  General  Thomas  giving  us  the  hog.  The  captain  ap- 
preciated the  joke,  laughed  heartily,  and  said: 

444  Well,  I guess  the  hog  belongs  to  you.’ 

44 1 went  back  and  told  the  orderly  that  the  hog  belonged 
to  Killdow  and  myself.  He  went  up  to  see  the  captain,  but 
did  not  return;  so  we  skinned  the  hog  and  issued  it  out  to  the 
boys  ourselves.  But  that  was  the  last  hog  that  poor  Killdow 
ever  helped  to  kill,  for  he  was  taken  prisoner  at  the  battle  of 
Chickamauga,  Sept.  20,  1863,  and  died  in  Andersonville 
prison  on  the  1st  of  September,  1864.” 

44  That  is  not  very  much  unlike  one  I recall,  which  occurred 
just  before  we  were  going  into  Huntsville,  Ala.,”  said  Mr.  J. 
J.  Marquett,  of  Company  B,  37th  Indiana. 


88 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“ It  was  reported  that  there  were  four  Johnnies  secreted 
on  a large  plantation  about  two  miles  from  the  line  of  march, 
and  our  lieutenant,  eleven  other  men,  and  myself  were  de- 
tailed to  look  after  their  welfare. 

“ We  arrived  about  dark,  deployed  out,  and  came  up  on 
all  sides  of  the  house,  so  that  none  of  them  could  escape. 
There  were  two  or  three  at  some  of  the  doors,  but  I had  a 
door  to  myself.  When  we  were  ready  we  began  to  force  our 
way  in.  My  door  opened  readily,  and  I stepped  in.  All 
was  dark.  I began  to  feel  almost  like  a burglar.  About  the 
second  step  I took  I ran  against  something,  and  putting  my 
hand  out  to  explore,  I ran  it  squarely  into  a rich  dish  of 
corn  meal  pudding  [known  as  * samp  ’ in  the  South]  which 
was  steaming  hot!  Near  it  was  a plate  of  hot  biscuit,  and 
you  may  imagine  that  it  didn’t  take  me  long  to  get  those  bis- 
cuit into  my  knapsack.  The  family  had  been  just  ready  to 
eat,  but  had  taken  the  light  from  the  dining-room,  so  that  the 
soldiers  would  not  discover  the  supper.  I helped  myself  to  a 
few  other  things,  and  then,  after  exploring  the  room,  left  the 
house. 

“ The  other  boys  had  been  in  the  various  rooms,  but 
found  no  Johnnies,  except  a lady  and  her  daughter — the  men 
had  all  escaped  to  a small  piece  of  woods.  However,  they 
left  two  guns  and  a pistol,  all  loaded,  but  the  ladies  did  not 
try  to  use  them.  Near  by  was  a nice  spring-house,  and  when 
the  boys  came  together  we  went  in  and  filled  our  canteens 
with  milk.  Then  we  ate  the  biscuit  and  what  other  food  I 
got,  and  started  back  for  the  main  line.  One  of  the  boys  had 
captured  a ham,  but  we  did  not  stop  to  cook  that. 

“ It  was  some  time  before  we  overtook  the  marching  col- 
umn. About  midnight  we  came  to  a small  village  with  one 
store,  which  had  been  partly  sacked,  and  there  were  yet  a 
few  soldiers  hanging  around  the  place.  As  we  came  up  to 
the  store  we  discovered  the  cause  of  this,  for  just  then  one  of 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


89 


the  boys  came  out  of  the  cellar,  reeling  with  drunkenness. 
One  or  two  of  our  boys  began  to  investigate,  and  found 
whiskey  ankle  deep  all  over  the  cellar  floor.  It  seemed  as  if 
every  one  who  had  gone  into  the  cellar  had  pulled  the  cork 
from  a new  barrel,  drawn  a canteen  full,  and  let  the  liquor  run. 
From  the  odor  that  came  from  the  cellar,  and  from  the  effect 
the  fluid  had  on  the  boys,  it  seemed  to  me  that  it  must  have 
been  forty-rod  whiskey.” 

[The  S.  P.  U.  H.  chemist,  who  had  been  retained  on  the 
liberal  privilege  that  he  might  have  all  the  knowledge  he 
could  gain  from  the  several  analyses,  if  he  would  defray  his 
own  expenses,  ascertained  that  44  forty-rod  whiskey”  took  its 
name  from  the  effect  it  produced  upon  those  who  smacked 
their  lips  over  it.  After  quaffing  the  zephyr-like  ambrosia  it 
has  the  angelic  faculty  of  making  a fellow  feel  as  if  he  were 
forty  rods  from  the  place  of  his  real  existence.  In  short,  he 
is  distant  from  his  equilibrium,  and  usually  makes  a desperate 
effort  to  restore  himself.] 

44  When  the  boys  caught  up  with  the  troops  in  the  morn 
ing,  all  who  had  any  forage  went  in  the  back  way  (for  they 
had  not  been  detailed  to  forage)  except  the  fellow  who  had 
captured  the  ham.  I say  4 captured,’  because  when  the  day 
broke  it  was  discovered  that  the  ham  possessed  unmistakable 
signs  of  life.  Observing  this  the  soldier  concluded  that  he 
had  not  carried  that  ham  all  night  for  nothing,  and  would  yet 
have  some  sport  from  it,  if  not  food.  So  he  took  another 
draught  of  4 forty-rod  ’ from  his  canteen,  run  his  bayonet 
through  the  ham  and  started  into  camp  past  General  Tur- 
chin’s  headquarters,  apparently  more  intoxicated  than  he 
really  was. 

44  4 Here!’  demanded  the  general,  4 where  have  you 
been  ? ’ 

44  4 E — hie! — down  the  road  a ways.’ 

44  4 Who  gave  you  permission  to  go  foragin’?’ 


9° 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 


44 4 Didn’t — hie! — have  any;  didn’t  think  we — hie! — think 
we  needed  any,  just  to  steal  one  ham.’ 

44  4 Come  up  here,  you  drunken  vagrant.’ 

444  Allrigh’,  general;  you  can  have  the  ham — s’pose  that’s 
what  you  want;  take  it  right  along — compliments  of  your 
dearly  be — hie! — loved.’ 

44  The  general  looked  at  the  ham,  and  at  once  saw  its  true 
condition,  whereupon  he  laughed: 

44  4 Sold  again; — have  a cigar.  You  can  have  the  nam — 
take  it  away,  but  look  out  that  it  don’t  bite ! ’ ” 

44  Three  cheers  for  S.  B.,”  said  the  commander  of  the 
camp-fire,  and  the  vicinity  echoed  three  hearty  hurrahs, 

44  That  is  like  one  I know,  wherein  the  S.  B.  came  off  vic- 
torious,” said  Mr.  Henry  A.  Keve,  of  the  7th  Illinois: 

44  In  the  spring  of  1862,  our  division  (Dodge’s)  was  sent 
out  from  Corinth,  Miss.,  on  an  expedition  into  the  Tuscumbia 
Valley  in  Alabama.  On  the  28th  of  April  we  were  de- 
ployed as  skirmishers  at  Town  Creek,  to  watch  for  the 
approach  of  rebel  cavalry  under  Roddy.  The  cavalry  not 
making  its  appearance,  the  boys  began  to  look  about  for  means 
to  pass  the  time  away.  A few  stretched  themselves  upon  the 
grass  in  the  warm  sunlight,  and  were  soon  fast  asleep. 
Among  the  sleepers  was  Private  Theodore,  of  Company  K. 

44  Theodore  was  one  of  those  wise  fellows,  whose  experi- 
ence in  the  regular  army  and  in  Mexico  had  furnished  him 
with  a wonderful  stock  of  wearying  tales  and  pointless  jokes. 
He  was  personally  acquainted  with  Generals  Scott,  Taylor, 
Wool,  Twiggs,  Jeff.  Davis,  and  Robert  E.  Lee;  was  always 
ready  with  a solution  of  all  difficult  questions  in  military  strat- 
egy, politics,  philosophy  or  religion — in  short,  was  a walking 
emporium  of  wisdom,  and  contrived  to  make  himself  gen- 
erally unpopular. 

44  Not  far  from  the  sleeping  Solomon  was  an  old  hog 
with  a young  family.  The  hog  was  very  lean,  which  ac- 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


91 


counts  for  her  being  able  to  perform  her  part  in  the  following 
comedy. 

“ But  Private  Brown  was  not  asleep;  on  the  contrary  he  was 
wide  awake  and  looking  about  for  some  harmless  amusement. 
He  saw  the  old  hog,  and  he  saw  ^he  slumbering  Theodore. 
Brown  was  an  Illinois  farmer  and  knew  all  about  hogs  and 
their  habits;  and  his  fertile  brain  soon  developed  the  following 
scheme  to  bring  Theodore  back  to  consciousness: 

“ He  stole  softly  toward  the  bed  of  swine,  grabbed  a pig 
and  started  for  the  unconscious  Theodore,  the  pig  squealing 
and  the  old  hog  following  on  a run.  Dropping  the  pig  by 
the  side  of  Theodore  he  stepped  aside  to  view  the  result.  On 
came  the  savage  and  terrified  beast,  and  with  a booh-hooh 
booh!  she  pounced  upon  the  unguarded  sleeper.  The  scene 
that  followed  was  exhilarating  in  the  extreme — the  old  hog 
boohing-hoohing  and  shaking,  and  poor  Theodore,  thinking 
in  his  half-awake  condition  that  the  enemy  was  upon  him, 
struggling  and  shouting: 

“ CI  surrender!  I surrender!’  He  finally  made  his  escape 
by  leaving  part  of  his  clothing  in  the  hog’s  possession;  but 
with  all  his  ability  as  a solver  of  knotty  problems,  Theodore 
could  never  imagine  what  made  that  old  hog  so  mad  at  him.” 


CAMP-FIRE  VIII. 


LIBBY  PRISON THE  “HORNED  YANKEE” ANDERSONVILLE^ 

WHOSE  SURNAME  IS  DEATH — A MODERN  MIRACLE THE 

ALTAR  OF  KLEPTOMANIA  RECEIVES  A SACRIFICE  OF 
SEVEN. 

T the  close  of  the  last  camp-fire,  Mr.  W.  Frank  Bailey, 
of  the  6th  Pennsylvania  Reserves,  who  was  known  to 
have  been  wounded  when  he  entered  Andersonville, 
and  to  have  had  a rough  experience,  was  requested  to  give 
what  reminiscences  he  could  of  prison  life,  at  the  next  camp- 
fire. When  the  usual  preliminaries  were  gone  through  with, 
Mr.  Bailey  said  he  had  thought  some  of  Andersonville  since 
his  fourteenth  months’  visit  there,  and  did  not  believe  that 
any  one  who  had  spent  any  length  of  time  in  that  vihage 
would  ever  forget  Southern  hospitality. 

He  then  continued: 

“ Among  the  many  incidents  and  exciting  scenes  of  four 
years  passed  in  active  service,  none  have  left  a more  vivid  im- 
pression than  my  experience  as  a prisoner.  You  all  remember, 
comrades,  that  during  the  year  or  more  previous  to  the  close 
of  the  war,  the  position  of  a soldier,  either  as  a private  or 
commissioned  officer,  was  one  of  doubtful  honor;  and  I only 
refer  to  this  in  order  that  due  credit  may  be  given  to  the 
heroic  sufferers  of  whom  I am  about  to  speak.  When  the 
signs  upon  the  horizon  of  our  beloved  Republic  indicated  her 
dismemberment,  men  thought  not  of  toil,  danger  and  priva- 
tion; but  sprang  to  her  rescue  with  one  consent,  cheerfully 
giving  all  that  life  could  afford  as  their  individual  offering 

92 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


93 


upon  a common  altar  as  the  price  of  her  salvation.  The  best 
and  noblest  of  the  land,  the  pride  of  homes,  the  first-born  of 
families,  the  beloved  of  households,  stepped  into  line,  actuated 
only  by  motives  of  the  purest  patriotism.  As  time  rolled  on 
and  our  people  became  more  acquainted  with  the  privations 
and  calamities  incident  to  a protracted  struggle,  patriotism 
declined,  and  mercenary  inducements  were  held  out,  which 
drew  from  the  ranks  of  the  people  many  who  were  not  solely 
inspired  by  a love  of  country  or  pride  in  her  honor;  hence  the 
position  of  the  soldier  was  rendered  more  or  less  humiliating 
to  those  who  enlisted  at  the  outbreak,  and  served  to  the  close 
of  the  war. 

“ But  the  record  of  the  sufferings  of  the  true  soldier  is 
eternal.  The  story  of  rebel  prison  pens  is  one  which  every 
true  lover  of  our  country  might  well  wish  were  never  written, 
and  yet  I make  no  apology  for  discussing  it,  for  it  is  a part 
of  human  history — half  written  upon  earth  because  hu- 
manity has  no  language  to  express,  or  pen  to  paint  its  horrors. 
Like  some  hideous  nightmare  transporting  the  imagination  to 
the  abode  of  the  damned,  do  the  recollections  of  this  period  of 
my  life  pass  in  review.  Although  nearly  twenty  years  spent 
in  peaceful  civil  life,  have  elapsed  since  the  date  of  the  events 
I am  about  to  relate,  I can  only  look  back  upon  them  to-day 
as  a long,  dark  night  of  lingering  horror — a fierce  protracted 
struggle  with  a bitter,  relentless,  though  unseen  enemy,  un- 
marked in  its  intensity  by  the  roar  of  cannon  or  rattle  of 
musketry,  but  in  the  slow,  sure  wasting  away  of  mind  and 
body;  as  though  one  were  cast  into  a deep,  dark  pit,  sur- 
rounded by  dead  and  dying  victims,  whose  emaciated  bodies, 
despairing  countenances,  decaying  forms  and  grinning  skele- 
tons marked  the  progress  of  death’s  victory.  As  has  been  re- 
peatedly expressed  by  the  survivors  of  some  of  these  prisons, 
4 Words  are  totally  inadequate  to  the  task  of  a description  of 
their  horrors.’  Without  attempting  the  impossibility  of  con- 


94 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


veying  to  the  mind  of  the  hearer  a full  comprehension  of  the 
unhappy  situation  of  Union  prisoners  confined  in  these  living 
hells,  I will  endeavor  to  give  a simple  narrative  of  what  I,  in 
common  with  others,  saw  and  experienced.  It  may  be 
deemed  impossible  for  one  who  was  a sufferer  to  give  a faith- 
ful account  of  a portion  of  the  proceedings  which  form  a 
black  page  in  the  history  of  our  country.  I can  say  with  all 
sincerity  that  I have  no  other  than  the  kindest  feelings  to- 
ward those  who  were  our  contestants  on  many  a hard-fought 
field,  and  if  there  be  any  stigma  attached  for  barbarities  to 
Union  prisoners  it  must  not  fall  upon  those  who  crossed 
swords  with  us  in  the  front;  men  who  daily  tested  each  other’s 
fidelity,  bravery  and  courage,  learned  to  respect  such  enemies 
too  well  to  be  guilty  of  a breach  of  humanity  toward  their 
fellow-men. 

“ In  connection  with  the  circumstances  which  led  to  our 
capture,  it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  say  that  the  Pennsylva- 
nia Reserves,  to  which  division  I belonged,  claimed  that  their 
time  had  expired.  The  company  with  which  I went  out 
enlisted  on  the  22d  day  of  April,  1861,  but  the  division  was 
not  sworn  into  the  United  States  service  until  July  27,  of  the 
same  year.  We  claimed  the  right  to  count  our  term  of  service 
from  the  date  of  our  enlistment;  the  government  claiming 
from  the  date  on  which  we  were  sworn  in,  a difference  of 
three  months.  This  was  compromised  by  promising  our 
muster  out  on  the  30th  of  May,  1864.  ^ merely  mention  this 

to  show  the  fidelity  of  old  soldiers,  inasmuch  as  the  date  of 
the  capture  of  a large  number  of  us  occurred  on  that  after- 
noon, within  a few  hours  of  the  time  agreed  upon  for  our 
final  discharge.  And  you  will  pardon  my  digression  in  say- 
ing that  the  grand  old  division,  composed  entirely  of  Penn- 
sylvanians, after  serving  more  than  a month  over  time,  and 
that  period  spent  in  almost  daily  battle,  in  the  front  ranks  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  was  finally  relieved  at  midnight, 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


95 


while  upon  the  picket  line,  on  the  field  where  they  had 
fought  for  several  hours  previous. 

“ After  the  ten  days’  Battle  of  the  Wilderness,  second 
battle  of  Spottsylvania  Court  House,  North  Anna  River, 
and  the  series  of  engagements  ending  in  flank  movements, 
which  occurred  in  the  spring  of  1864,  we  were  brought  to  a 
point  about  two  miles  from  Bethesda  Church,  situated  on  the 
Mechanicsville  plank  road,  distant  about  nine  miles  from 
Richmond.  On  the  30th  day  of  May,  1864,  the  regiment  to 
which  I belonged  (the  6th  Pennsylvania  Reserves),  in  con- 
nection with  the  original  Bucktail  Regiment,  numbering  in 
all  about  700  men,  were  deployed  as  skirmishers  in  the 
woods  in  which  we  lay,  with  orders  to  move  to  the  road 
mentioned,  and  hold  it.  The  Confederate  pickets  were  soon 
encountered,  who  fell  back  as  we  advanced.  After  driving 
them  from  the  woods,  we  came  to  an  open  clearing  about  half 
a mile  across  to  another  woods.  This  we  crossed  on  the 
double-quick,  two  companies  on  the  left  of  our  line  crossing 
the  road  which  was  our  objective  point,  and  nearly  a mile  in 
advance  of  our  regular  line  of  battle.  We  were  ordered  to 
halt  and  entrench,  which  we  immediately  proceeded  to  do  by 
tearing  down  the  rail  fences  from  both  sides  of  the  road,  and 
piling  up  the  rails  preparatory  to  covering  them  with  earth. 
At  this  moment  we  were  joined  on  the  left  by  one  of  the 
heavy  artillery  regiments,  fresh  from  the  fortifications  about 
Washington,  and  utterly  ignorant  of  infantry  duty  in  the 
field.  In  the  short  interval  the  rebel  skirmishers  had  fallen 
back  to  a point  where  their  spent  balls  just  reached  us,  leav- 
ing us  under  the  impression  that  we  were  masters  of  the 
situation.  But  soldiers,  like  other  people,  are  often  the  victims 
of  misplaced  confidence.  We  were  totally  ignorant  of  the 
fact  that  General  Ewell’s  Confederate  corps  of  about  fifteen 
hundred  fresh  troops  were  lying  concealed  in  the  woods  ft;ew 
rods  ahead  of  us,  and  had  been  busily  occupying  the  time  m 


96 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


surrounding  our  flanks,  which  being  completed,  they  sud- 
denly emerged  from  the  woods  in  front  of  us,  in  a heavy  line 
of  battle,  pouring  in  a volley  upon  us  at  a distance  of  less 
than  ten  rods.  Surprised,  and  almost  entirely  surrounded  by 
a force  of  ten  to  one,  a large  number  were  killed  and  wounded, 
and  over  three  hundred  captured,  among  whom  was  myself, 
wounded  in  the  foot  and  leg.  Previous  to  this  time,  Libby 
prison,  Belle  Isle,  and  Castle  Thunder  had  already  established 
reputations  throughout  the  North  for  unwarranted  and  cruel 
treatment  of  their  prisoners.  The  prison  pen  at  Anderson- 
ville  was  yet  in  its  infancy,  and  its  world-wide  fame  was  then 
confined  within  its  silent  walls.  The  pens  at  Florence  and 
Cahawba  were  not  established,  but  enough  was  known  to 
inspire  one  with  dread  at  the  thought  of  falling  into  the  ene- 
my’s hands.  In  fact,  the  idea  of  being  taken  prisoner  had 
entirely  escaped  my  notice  until  this  moment.  All  the  reports 
current  in  relation  to  rebel  prison  pens,  which  I had  hereto- 
fore given  but  a passing  thought,  became  unusually  vivid.  I 
endeavored  to  console  myself  with  the  reflection  that  I should 
see  Richmond,  which  for  three  years  we  had  so  much  desired 
to  possess, — and  probably  much  of  the  enemy’s  country.  The 
first  attraction  I possessed  in  the  eyes  of  my  captors  was  an 
old  silver  watch.  The  colonel  of  the  43d  North  Carolina 
wanted  just  such  a watch,  and  gave  me  all  the  scrip  he  had, 
$75  Confederate  money,  in  exchange  for  it.  Nothing  but 
our  swords,  fire-arms  and  ammunition  were  taken  from  us 
by  our  captors.  It  being  late  in  the  afternoon,  the  able-bodied 
prisoners  were  sent  back  to  the  Provost  Marshal,  while  the 
wounded  were  taken  to  about  a mile  in  the  rear  of  the  rebel 
line,  and  kept  under  guard  all  night.  As  my  foot,  which  had 
now  swollen  to  double  its  ordinary  size,  and  my  leg  gave  me 
considerable  pain,  I could  not  sleeps  but  sat  by  a camp-fire, 
drawing  consolation  from  the  steady  stream  of  ambulances 
conveying  wounded  to  the  rear,  all  night  long.x  I knew  our 


ULBBY  PRISON 


98 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


boys  in  blue  had  done  their  best  to  avenge  us,  and  many  a 
traitor  to  his  country  had  been  sent  to  his  long  home. 

“ The  following  morning  we  were  marched  to  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Provost  Marshal,  an  interesting  place  in  all 
armies.  In  a large  field,  surrounded  by  guards,  were  grouped 
Union  prisoners,  rebel  deserters,  spies,  citizens  who  were  for- 
cibly impressed  into  the  rebel  service,  many  of  whom  ente*. 
tained  strong  Union  sentiments,  and  refused  to  take  arms,, 
called  conscripts, — a regular  heterogeneous  mixture  of  of- 
fenders. Here  the  first  process  of  c skinning  ’ was  performed. 
All  equipments  serviceable  in  the  field,  such  as  blankets* 
haversacks,  canteens,  shelter  tents,  rubber  blankets,  etc.,  etc., 
were  taken  from  us. 

“ On  our  way  to  the  Provost  Marshal’s,  I had  an  oppor- 
tunity to  learn  for  myself  that  some,  at  least,  of  the  Southern 
people  believed  that  Yankees  had  horns.  On  account  of  my 
disability,  I was  unable  to  keep  pace  with  the  other  prisoners, 
and  a comrade  was  detailed  to  help  me  along,  and  a guard  to 
keep  us  company.  .Before  reaching  our  destination,  we  made 
a detour  from  the  main  road  to  a dwelling  house,  for  the 
purpose  of  getting  a drink  of  water,  and,  if  possible,  procur- 
ing something  to  eat.  We  secured  a drink  at  the  spring  in 
the  rear  of  the  house,  and  passing  to  the  front,  encountered 
a middle-aged  and  two  younger  ladies  sitting  on  the  porch 
Our  guard,  who  acted  as  spokesman,  asked  for  something  to 
eat,  telling  them  at  the  same  time  that  we  were  Yankee 
prisoners.  One  of  the  young  ladies,  in  all  sincerity,  immedi- 
ately asked  the  guard: 

“ c Where  are  their  horns?’ 

“ Upon  which  we  all  commenced  to  laugh,  when  the 
young  lady  innocently  replied  that  she  had  been  told  that  all 
the  Yankees  had  horns  on  their  heads  like  cows.  I hardly 
need  say  that  we  got  nothing  to  eat,  and  doubt  if  we  would, 
even  if  we  had  had  horns. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


99 


“ During  the  afternoon  we  were  placed  in  cars  and  taken 
to  Richmond,  a distance  of  five  miles  from  the  Provost  Mar- 
shal’s. It  was  the  custom  of  the  authorities,  upon  receiving 
a number  of  Union  prisoners  to  parade  them  through  the 
streets,  to  encourage  the  people,  and  buoy  up  the  hopes  of  the 
Confederates  stationed  about  the  capital.  Our  squad  was  ac- 
cordingly marched  from  the  depot  to  the  War  Department, 
and  thence  to  the  well-known  warehouse  used  in  times  of 
peace  by  Libby  & Co.,  whose  sign  was  still  suspended  above 
the  door,  and  gave  a name  to  this  prison  which  will  endure 
for  generations.  It  was  with  considerable  difficulty  that  I 
performed  this  part  of  the  programme,  but  by  the  assistance 
of  a comrade  I was  enabled  to  walk  through  the  city,  fully 
as  much  to  my  own  satisfaction  as  that  of  the  enemy.  I was 
struck  with  the  appearance  of  both  the  city  and  the  people  as 
compared  with  the  cities  of  the  North.  A miserable  scanti- 
ness seemed  to  be  almost  universal.  The  shops  and  stores 
were  poorly  stocked.  Ragged  and  threadbare  clothing  cov- 
ered the  wretched  specimens  of  humanity  whom  the  strictly 
enforced  Conscription  Act  had  left  behind  as  home  guards. 
Disappointment  at  the  results  of  the  war  was  visible  on  every 
countenance,  and  intense  hatred  for  the  Yankees  brought 
forth  loudly-expressed  denunciations  and  epithets  from  the 
citizens  who  lined  the  sidewalks.  One  could  hardly  help 
realizing  that  the  ashes  of  the  angry  Vesuvius  outside  the 
fortifications  were  settling  over  the  doomed  city.  It  was 
nearly  dark  when  we  reached  the  prison,  and  we  were  quar- 
tered for  the  first  night  on  the  first  floor  of  the  warehouse. 

“ Early  next  morning  the  officer  in  charge,  Maj.  Richard 
Turner,  commonly  known  as  Dick  Turner,  accompanied  by 
an  armed  squad  and  two  clerks,  entered  the  apartment.  The 
prisoners  were  ordered  into  line  and  a request  politely  made 
that  all  who  had  any  United  States  money  in  their  possession 
should  come  forward  and  give  it  up.  (This  was  the  first, 


IOO 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


last,  and  only  politely  expressed  request  or  command  ever  ad- 
dressed to  us  while  prisoners.)  They  told  us  that  ail  who 
would  thus  voluntarily  give  up  their  money  should  have  their 
names  recorded  in  a book,  and  when  exchanged  it  would  be 
returned  to  them.  Our  boys  displayed  a great  lack  of  faith  in 
the  solvency  of  this  bank  for  deposits  only , as  but  two  or 
three  responded  to  the  invitation.  One  of  the  clerks  actually 
performed  the  farce  of  recording  their  names  and  amounts. 
The  voluntary  subscription  to  the  fund  being  exhausted,  and 
a further  display  of  humanity  on  the  part  of  our  captors  being 
superfluous,  the  rest  of  us  were  told  that  our  money  and  val- 
uables would  be  taken  from  us  anyhow. 

“ The  c skinning  ’ process  resorted  to  was  sufficient  to 
satisfy  any  one  that  there  was  not  much  left  in  our  possession. 
Each  prisoner  was  called  up  singly  and  ordered  to  strip, 
which  was  done  to  the  last  stitch.  Clothing  was  turned 
wrong  side  out  and  thoroughly  searched  in  the  pockets  and 
between  the  linings,  plugs  of  tobacco  were  cut  open,  daguer- 
reotypes taken  out  of  their  cases,  fingers  were  run  through 
the  hair,  the  mouth  ordered  to  be  opened,  arms  raised,  and 
every  imaginable  means  employed  to  thwart  Yankee  inge- 
nuity in  secreting  valuables.  Many  of  the  old  soldiers  un- 
derstand a disease  known  in  the  army  as  the  4 green  piles.’ 
The  rebels  had  heard  of  it,  and  no  prisoner  was  permitted  to 
pass  without  a careful  examination  on  this  point.  Knives, 
rings,  paper,  envelopes,  extra  clothing  of  all  kinds,  was  con- 
fiscated, pictures  of  friends  were  torn  up  or  stamped  under 
feet,  for  no  other  purpose  than  lest  they  might  prove  a com- 
fort to  the  prisoners.  In  spite  of  the  strict  search  I succeeded 
in  retaining  a part  of  the  money  I had,  together  with  a gold 
locket  containing  a picture  of  my  father  and  mother,  which  I 
still  have  in  my  possession.  My  comparatively  helpless  con- 
dition caused  them  to  pay  less  attention  to  my  movements 
than  they  otherwise  would,  and  while  the  350  prisoners  who 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


IOI 


preceded  me  were  being  gone  through  with,  I succeeded  in 
placing  the  things  mentioned  between  the  linings  in  the  legs 
of  my  boots,  one  of  which  I had  been  compelled  to  cut  over 
the  instep  in  order  to  get  it  off  my  foot  when  first  wounded. 
The  fact  of  my  boots  being  cut  proved  fortunate,  as  I was 
enabled  to  keep  them  also — boots  being  a prize  among  the 
rebels. 

“ When  the  process  of  searching  was  finished  we  were 
taken  up  to  the  second  floor,  in  a large  room  where  were 
confined  a number  of  other  prisoners.  The  windows  of  the 
room  were  secured  by  iron  bars,  such  as  adorn  prison  cells. 
The  building  was  surrounded  by  sentinels,  whose  beats  were 
on  the  pavement  below-  No  one  was  allowed  to  put  his 
head  close  enough  to  the  bars  to  look  down  on  the  street,  un- 
der penalty  of  being  shot.  In  the  afternoon,  this  being  the 
third  day  after  our  capture,  we  drew  our  first  rations  from  the 
Confederacy,  consisting  of  four  or  five  ounces  of  corn  bread, 
two  spoonfuls  of  cooked  rice,  and  two  ounces  of  boiled  bacon. 
This,  once  a day,  constituted  our  rations  while  in  Libby 
prison.  What  it  lacked  in  quantity  was  made  up  in  strength, 
the  rice  bugs  and  old  bacon  being  abundantly  able  to  satisfy 
our  appetites  and  sustain  our  bodily  wants. 

“ Here  many  of  us  for  the  first  time  contracted  an  inti- 
mate acquaintance  with  the  prisoners’  closest  companion. 
When  in  after  days  hope  grew  faint  and  we  seemed  left 
to  our  fate,  deserted  by  the  country  we  loved,  our  little 
friend  stuck  to  us  closer  than  a brother.  In  sickness  or  health, 
rain  or  shine,  through  evil  report  or  good  report,  he  never  de- 
serted us.  Twice  each  day  he  helped  us  by  his  presence  to 
while  away  a portion  of  the  long  dreary  hours,  and  we  even 
took  off  our  clothing  to  catch  sight  of  him.  I refer  to  the 
festive  louse. 

“We  remained  in  Libby  prison  only  ten  days,  it  not  being 
deemed  safe  by  the  authorities  to  accumulate  too  many 


102 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


prisoners  in  Richmond  at  one  time,  as  fighting  was  in  prog- 
ress outside  the  city  continually,  and  fresh  batches  were  being 
brought  in  every  few  days.  Our  lot  at  that  time  seemed  very 
hard  to  us,  fully  confirming  all  the  reports  we  had  heard,  but 
future  experience  proved  that  this  was  a paradise  compared 
with  what  was  to  follow.  It  was  positively  asserted  by  the 
older  prisoners  that  Libby  prison  was  at  that  time  mined,  and 
it  was  the  intention  of  the  rebels,  if  the  Northern  army  was 
successful  in  penetrating  the  lines  around  Richmond,  to  blow 
up  the  building  and  destroy  the  contents.  This  information 
was  obtained  from  the  negroes,  who  were  sent  in  every  morn- 
ing to  sweep  the  floor  of  our  room.  These  negroes  were  in- 
clined to  be  very  friendly  to  us,  and  many  a loaf  of  bread  was 
smuggled  into  the  prisoners’  room ; but  the  greatest  caution 
was  needed,  as  the  slightest  attention  shown  us  would  have 
subjected  them  to  the  severest  punishment,  if  detected. 

“ Prices  of  everything  in  the  rebel  capital  were  enormous. 
A uniform  of  gray  for  a Confederate  officer  cost  $1,200;  a 
good  pair  of  boots,  $900.  Salt  was  scarce  at  any  price.  A 
loaf  of  bread  but  little  larger  than  a baker’s  bun  sold  for 
$2.00.  One  greenback  dollar  was  rated  equal  to  six  of  Con- 
federate scrip.  Their  reason  for  this  was  that  the  United 
States  money  would  be  good  whatever  the  result  of  the  war, 
while  theirs  would  be  valuable  only  in  case  of  success,  which 
many  of  them  doubted,  even  at  that  time.  They  displayed 
great  desire  to  get  possession  of  all  the  greenbacks  they  could, 
notwithstanding  the  stringent  laws  in  vogue  against  a dis- 
crimination in  favor  of  United  States  money. 

u In  a few  days  we  were  told  that  we  would  be  taken  to 
a military  camp  which  had  lately  been  established  at  Ander- 
sonville,  Ga.,  for  the  benefit  of  prisoners,  and  that  our  condi- 
tion would  be  much  improved.  The  camp  at  Andersonville 
was  painted  in  glowing  colors,  and  the  advantages  so  well 
represented,  that  we  were  eager  for  the  change.  They  told 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


103 


us  it  was  beautifully  situated  in  a meadow,  cleared  out  from 
the  woods,  where  we  could  be  sheltered  by  the  trees  from  the 
sun;  also  that  a fine  stream  of  water  ran  through  it,  in  which 
we  could  fish  and  swim — in  fact,  that  we  could  spend  our  time 
in  any  way  to  suit  ourselves,  as  very  much  more  freedom 
would  be  allowed  us  than  could  be  permitted  at  Richmond. 

“ Accordingly,  on  the  9th  of  June,  we  were  aroused  at 
early  dawn,  marched  to  the  depot,  and  placed  on  cars  des- 
tined for  Andersonville.  The  cars  were  of  the  most  miser- 
able description,  for  freight  and  cattle,  some  of  them  being 
open,  such  as  we  use  on  our  construction  trains,  without  seats. 
We  were  packed  in  so  close  that  we  could  neither  sit  nor 
stand  with  any  comfort.  We  slept  somewhat  after  the  style 
of  sardines  in  a box,  though  not  quite  so  sound.  As  we  were 
carted  along  at  the  convenience  of  the  various  roads  over 
which  we  passed,  our  trip  consumed  eight  days.  During 
this  period  we  drew  rations  only  four  times,  very  small  ra- 
tions for  a day  each  time.  Once  we  were  fed  dry  corn  on 
the  cob,  which,  though  unpalatable,  we  were  glad  to  get. 
Want  of  water  added  very  much  to  our  discomfort.  At  Dan- 
ville, Va.,  I paid  fifty  cents  for  a pint  of  water,  and  at  a station 
in  North  Carolina  I procured  half  a pound  of  corn  bread  and 
three-quarters  of  a pound  of  bacon  for  the  modest  sum  of  $5. 
Another  serious  loss  befell  me  on  the  second  day  of  our  trip, 
which  added  one  more  cause  of  destitution.  I was  trying  to 
sleep,  by  way  of  passing  away  time  on  the  uncomfortable  cars, 
but  was  aroused  by  some  unusual  movements  about  my  head, 
and  raised  up  just  in  time  to  discover  the  rebel  captain  in  charge 
of  the  train  putting  on  my  hat  and  traveling  off  with  it.  I 
called  out  to  him,  demanding  my  hat,  when  he  threw  me  his 
old  gray  headgear,  remarking  that  it  was  good  enough  for 
any  Yankee.  Filled  with  indignation,  I threw  it  out  the  car 
door,  and  was  compelled  in  consequence  to  pass  the  next  six 
months  of  my  life  without  a hat. 


I Of 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“At  Greensboro,  N.  C.,  we  failed  to  secure  a train  to  con- 
tinue our  journey,  and  were  marched  to  a piece  of  woods 
near  the  town  to  pass  the  night;  a severe  thunderstorm  came 
up,  and  the  rain  fell  in  torrents  all  night.  Sleep  was,  of 
course,  impossible,  and  we  stood  there  in  the  rain  until  morn- 
ing, making  the  woods  ring  with  6 Rally  Round  the  Flag, 
Boys,’  and  other  patriotic  songs,  much  to  the  annoyance  of 
the  guard,  who  threatened  time  and  again  to  shoot  the  whole 
lot  of  us.  The  people  all  along  the  route  displayed  the  most 
intense  hatred  for  Yankees,  and  many  were  the  denuncia- 
tions heaped  upon  us.  Hang  ’em!  Shoot ’em!  Kill ’em! 
were  the  exclamations  that  greeted  our  ears  at  the  different 
stations  passed.  The  guards  were  very  rigid,  and  being 
composed  of  troops  who  had  never  listened  to  the  music  in 
front,  felt  that  they  had  a heavy  responsibility  attached  to 
them  in  guarding  a lot  of  unarmed  prisoners  through  a peace- 
ful section  of  their  own  country.  At  only  one  place  along 
the  route  did  we  encounter  anything  approaching  humanity 
of  feeling,  and  that  was  at  Augusta,  Ga.  The  train  stopped 
there  for  a few  minutes,  and  a young  lady,  accompanied  by 
two  colored  women  bearing  baskets  of  provisions,  came  to 
the  cars  and  commenced  distributing  food  to  the  prisoners. 
The  guards  undertook  to  stop  her,  but  she  gave  them  some 
reply  which  was  satisfactory  to  them,  and  continued  her 
labor  of  love  unmolested,  actuated  by  a feeling  of  humanity, 
if  not  of  Union  sentiment.  The  boys  cheered  her  lustily, 
and  I am  positive  that  was  the  sweetest  morsel  of  food  ever 
offered  to  Union  prisoners  south  of  Mason  and  Dixon’s  line. 

“We  arrived  at  Andersonville  on  the  16th  of  June,  and 
found  this  world-renowned  place  to  consist  of  two  houses,  a 
railroad  station,  and  a water  tank.  The  situation  of  the  place 
was  one  of  utter  isolation,  surrounded  as  it  was  with  a wilder- 
ness of  pine  woods,  and  was  apparently  intended  by  nature 
as  an  abode  for  owls  and  bats,  the  whistle  of  the  locomotive 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  105 

seeming  to  be  an  intrusion  upon  the  utter  loneliness  which 
the  place  inspired.  The  whole  distance  from  Macon,  which 
we  left  that  morning,  had  been  through  a desolate,  dreary 
part  of  the  country,  each  mile  more  and  more  God-forsaken 
in  appearance,  until  our  destination  was  reached, — truly  a fit 
place  for  the  dark  and  cruel  tragedy  which  paved  earth  six 
miles  long  and  six  feet  wide  with  human  victims.  A weird 
spot,  where  the  groans  of  the  dying  and  shrieks  of  the  maniac 
reverberated  through  the  forest  wilds,  lost  from  human  ear  in 
the  murmuring  of  the  tree-tops*  and  wafted  up  to  heaven  by 
the  swaying  of  the  giant  pines.  The  sense  of  novelty  in  being 
a prisoner  of  war  diminished  very  rapidly  as  we  marched  to 
the  pen  designated  for  our  future  abode,  which  was  situated 
about  a half  mile  from  the  depot.  Before  entering  the  gate, 
we  were  again  drawn  up  into  line  and  searched,  lest  our  Yan- 
kee ingenuity  should  succeed  in  procuring  and  concealing 
something  in  spite  of  the  watchfulness  of  our  guards.  We 
were  then  divided  into  detachments  of  270,  sub-divided  into 
nineties,  and  further  into  thirties,  to  facilitate  the  regular 
morning  roll-call,  and  the  not  altogether  regular  drawing  of 
rations,  a captive  non-commissioned  officer  being  placed  over 
each  detachment  and  its  divisions. 

“ The  true  inwardness  of  the  situation  was  then  made 
known  to  us  in  these  words,  uttered  by  the  officer  who  com- 
manded our  escort  from  the  cars: 

“ c You  d d Yankees,  you  will  never  come  out  of  here 

as  men;  what  we  cannot  kill  of  you,  we  will  disable  for  life.’ 
I shall  never  forget  the  effect  these  words  produced  upon  my 
mind.  I had  seen  three  years  of  hard  service,  participated 
in  fifteen  pitched  battles,  and  flattered  myself  that  I knew 
something  of  the  hardships  and  dangers  of  war.  My  twen- 
tieth birthday  had  been  passed  only  the  second  day  before, 
and  life  seemed  large  and  full  of  hope  before  me.  The  truth 
of  the  awful  situation  fell  upon  me  with  full  force.  We  were 


io  6 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR 


to  suffer  with  exposure,  neglect,  starvation,  insults  and  indig- 
nities, until  our  spirits  were  crushed  out  and  bodies  skeleton- 
ized, if  we  submitted  to  the  will  of  our  keepers;  or  be  shot 
down  if  we  rebelled.  From  that  moment  our  imprisonment 
became  a struggle  between  life  and  death.  We  knew  that 
everything  that  could  be  devised  would  be  done  to  end  our 
lives. 

“ We  then  entered  the  prison,  as  many  had  done  before 
us.  Alas,  we  had  little  dreamed  of  the  hardships  we  should 
here  encounter;  how  few  of  us  would  ever  come  out  alive! 
It  is  impossible  describe  in  words  the  living  horrors  pre- 
sented to  the  eye.  To  think  that  human  beings  should  be 
compelled  to  exist  in  such  a place  is  a stain  upon  all  record 
of  human  barbarity.  The  pen  was  built  by  clearing  out  the 
pine  woods  and  inclosing  about  twenty  acres  within  a stock- 
ade. The  ground  upon  which  the  camp  was  built  was  rising 
on  two  sides  of  a mud  bottom  stream,  the  borders  of  which 
were  swampy.  The  stockade  was  formed  of  logs  set  upright, 
reaching  sixteen  feet  above  ground,  and  about  four  feet  below 
the  surface,  with  sentry  boxes  on  top  at  intervals  of  perhaps 
one  hundred  feet.  Inside  of  this,  and  about  twenty  feet  from 
its  base,  was  a railing  three  feet  high  formed  of  stakes  set 
upright  about  twelve  feet  apart,  with  a single  rail  extending 
across  the  top.  This  was  the  6 dead  line,’  and  the  prisoner 
who  stepped  over  its  bounds  was  not  asked  to  retrace  his 
steps;  the  unerring  bullet  promptly  met  him  on  the  other 
side. 

“ No  shelter  of  any  description  was  provided  for  the  pris- 
oners; on  the  contrary,  all  our  blankets  and  shelter  tents  had 
been  taken  from  us.  Sick  and  well  alike  were  left  exposed 
to  the  burning  sun  or  drenching  rain,  to  live  as  best  they 
could  upon  the  dry,  barren,  sandy  soil,  with  only  the  canopy 
of  heaven  for  protection.  Within  the  inclosure  we  found 
23,000  poor  creatures,  some  of  whom  had  scarce  a trace  of 


io8 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


manhood  left  in  their  appearance,  some  feeble  and  emaciated 
from  starvation  and  disease,  clothing  worn  to  tatters,  filthy 
rags,  unwashed  faces,  uncombed  hair,  countenances  indicative 
of  utter  despair,  earthly  hopes  gone, — waiting  only  for  death. 
The  stream  which  ran  through  the  camp  and  supplied  us  with 
water  was  rendered  unfit  for  use  before  it  reached  us.  Five 
regiments  of  rebel  troops  who  guarded  the  prisoners  had 
their  quarters  above  us,  and  threw  all  their  offal  into  it  before 
it  reached  us.  At  least  three  acres  on  the  borders  of  the 
stream  were  swampy,  and  was  a living,  surging  mass  of  filth 
propelled  by  maggots.  The  stench  which  arose  from  the 
entire  camp  was  beyond  imagination,  seeming  to  solidify  the 
atmosphere.  Three  of  our  squad,  in  utter  despair  at  such  a 
prospect  of  existence,  stepped  over  the  ‘dead  line,’  and  received 
their  call  for  another  world,  satisfied  that  death,  with  all  its 
uncertainties,  would  not  produce  a worse  place  than  this.  To 
say  that  the  bravest  hearts  quailed  at  the  sight  of  these  living 
horrors,  coupled  with  the  fact  that  we  might  be  there  until  the 
close  of  the  war,  then  an  indefinite  period,  would  but  faintly 
express  our  feelings.  Speaking  for  myself,  I can  only  say  that 
I was  filled  with  a feeling  of  dogged  determination  to  live  it 
out  to  the  bitter  end.  Every  impulse  in  my  nature  seemed 
to  rise  in  revolt  against  the  idea  of  dying  a victim  to  the 
machinations  of  our  heartless  enemies.  I gloried  in  my  hope 
to  live  as  a witness  to  what  I believe  to  be  the  most  barba- 
rous treatment  in  human  history ! I knew  from  the  expe- 
rience of  others  that  upon  this  hope  hung  life  itself,  and  I 
held  to  it  with  all  the  tenacity  of  a youthful  and  unconquered 
nature.  Standing  in  that  fated  line  where  every  second  man 
was  destined  to  fill  a grave  on  the  ground  where  he  stood? 
my  brave  comrades  upon  my  right  hand  and  upon  my  left 
hand  have  gone  down,  and  by  the  favor  of  Divine  Providence 
I am  left. 

“ The  routine  of  prison  life  in  this  pen  was  as  regular  as 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


IO9 


clock  work  in  all  respects,  save  in  drawing  rations.  At  8 
o’clock  every  morning  each  detachment  was  called  into  line 
and  counted  by  a rebel  sergeant.  Every  man  had  to  be 
accounted  for  who  was  alive.  No  matter  how  sick,  he  was 
brought  out  and  counted.  Every  morning,  regularly,  a cir- 
cuit of  the  camp  was  made  outside  the  stockade  by  the  officer 
of  the  guard,  accompanied  by  two  or  more  bloodhounds,  for 
the  purpose  of  ascertaining  whether  any  one  had  made  his 
escape,  either  over  or  under  the  stockade.  The  rebel  drum 
corps  always  played  the  one  tune,  c Ain’t  I Glad  I’m  out  of 
the  Wilderness.’  It  is  said  that  4 music  hath  charms  to  soothe 
the  savage  breast,’  but  after  listening  to  that  tune  every  day 
for  three  months,  I am  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  rebel 
music  had  no  power  to  soothe  us.  It  may  be,  however,  that 
they  were  unfortunate  in  their  selection  of  a tune. 

u At  10  o’clock  in  the  morning  we  generally  drew  ra- 
tions. The  rations  at  Anderson ville  consisted  of  one  and  one- 
half  pints  of  corn  meal  and  three  ounces  of  old  bacon  per 
day.  The  quantity  was  sufficient  to  subsist  upon,  but  unfor- 
tunately for  our  stomachs,  the  meal  was  often  cobs  and  corn 
ground  together.  Fresh  beef  was  sometimes  substituted  for 
bacon,  and  rice  for  meal.  The  rations  were  issued  from 
wagons  driven  into  camp  to  the  sergeants  of  detachments, 
by  them  to  the  sergeants  of  thirties,  who  divided  it  as  nearly 
as  possible  into  thirty  portions.  One  of  the  squad  would 
then  turn  his  back,  and  as  the  sergeant  placed  his  hand  upon 
a morsel,  would  call  out  to  whom  it  should  belong.  Bones 
were  considered  equal  to  meat  in  the  division  of  the  rations, 
and  the  man  who  drew  a shin  bone  with  every  particle  of 
meat  stripped  from  it,  was  considered  the  fortunate  man  for 
that  day,  as  the  bone  was  broken  to  pieces  and  boiled  for 
broth,  after  which  it  was  burned  almost  to  a cinder  and  eaten. 
One  of  the  greatest  difficulties  we  experienced  was  in  cook- 
ing our  food.  The  utensils  we  used  for  that  purpose  in  the 


no 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


army  had  been  taken  from  us.  Wood  was  very  sparsely 
issued  to  us,  although  surrounded  by  woods.  A piece  as 
large  as  an  arm  sold  for  twenty-five  cents.  We  cut  it  into 
splinters  with  the  aid  of  beef  ribs.  The  lucky  possessor  of  a 
case  or  pocket  knife  picked  up  many  quarters  by  manufact- 
uring wooden  dishes,  plates,  spoons,  pails,  etc.  With  these 
we  could  mix  our  meal  to  the  proper  consistency,  put  it  into  a 
wooden  plate,  and  stand  it  before  the  fire  until  it  was 
browned,  or  at  least  smoked  with  pitch  pine  until  it  had  the 
appearance  of  being  cooked.  From  some  pieces  of  Un  and 
sheet  iron  torn  from  the  roof  of  the  cars  on  our  way  from 
Richmond,  some  were  enabled  to  make  pails  or  cups  in  which 
to  boil  mush.  Occasionally  our  rations  would  be  stopped  for 
a day  or  two,  upon  some  trifling  pretext.  The  prisoners  suf- 
fered very  much,  not  from  the  quantity  of  our  allowance  of 
food,  but  from  the  quality  and  kind,  as  well  as  constant  ex- 
posure and  general  surroundings. 

“ Want  of  vegetables  made  scurvy  very  prevalent  in 
camp.  A small  potato  sold  for  twenty-five  cents,  and  who- 
ever could  raise  the  cash  generally  had  a potato  which  he 
carried  with  him  to  rub  his  teeth  and  gums. 

“ It  must  not  be  supposed,  although  destitution  reached  a 
low  point,  that  there  were  no  speculators  in  Andersonville. 
There  were  several  booths  stocked  with  a few  articles,  such 
as  tobacco,  potatoes,  flour,  etc.,  at  enormous  prices,  and  a 
small  traffic  was  carried  on  by  some  enterprising  Yankee 
who  divided  his  profits  with  some  reliable  rebel  outside  the 
camp  who  furnished  him  the  merchandise.  Others,  on  a 
smaller  scale,  who  possessed  enough  of  the  c ready  John’  to 
get  a pound  of  flour,  a stick  of  wood,  and  a piece  of  sheet 
iron,  were  found  making  slap-jacks  about  the  size  of  a trade 
dollar,  calling  out,  4 Here’s  your  hot  cakes,  only  twenty-five 
cents  each.’  It  was  a godsend  to  many  of  us  that  the  garri- 
son of  Union  troops,  numbering  about  4,000  men,  stationed  at 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


I I I 


Plymouth,  N.  C.,  had  surrendered  conditionally,  and  were 
confined  at  Andersonville.  These  men  retained  everything 
except  arms  and  munitions  of  war,  and  freely  shared  their 
shelter  and  conveniences  with  those  of  their  friends  who  were 
less  fortunate.  It  was  my  good  luck  to  find  a company  from 
my  old  home  among  them,  and  I was  not  slow  in  accepting 
an  invitation  to  make  my  quarters  with  them. 

“ During  the  month  of  July  the  stockade  was  enlarged, 
six  acres  being  added  to  it.  We  were  fortunate  enough  to  be 
moved  on  the  new  and  higher  ground  inclosed  by  the  addi- 
tion, as  the  old  portion  of  the  camp  had  been  literally  cata- 
combed  for  the  convenience  of  the  sick.  The  number  of 
prisoners  was  increased  to  32,000 — a motley  mass — composed 
of  almost  every  nationality  under  the  sun,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  the  new  portion  of  the  camp  had  become  almost  as 
bad  as  the  old.  The  filthy  swamp  enlarged  its  borders,  and 
daily  became  more  abominable.  The  situation  grew  worse 
each  day.  Rumors  of  exchange  or  of  a cavalry  raid  for  our 
release  were  daily  gossiped  through  the  camp,  and  served  to 
inspire  hope.  It  was  well,  perhaps,  that  no  raid  was  ever 
attempted.  Our  guards  told  us  repeatedly  that  if  such  an 
effort  was  made  they  would  open  fire  on  the  camp  from  the 
four  batteries  which  were  situated  so  as  to  sweep  the  entire 
surface  of  it;  and  we  had  no  doubt  they  would  have  been 
highly  gratified  to  have  done  so,  as  they  never  neglected  an 
opportunity  to  kill  a prisoner  upon  the  slightest  pretext.  A 
furlough  of  thirty  days  was  granted  to  any  guard  who  killed 
a Yankee.  Deaths  increased  to  a frightful  extent,  numbering 
from  sixty  to  two  hundred  per  day  during  the  hot  months^ 
Hundreds  of  poor  creatures,  weakened  by  hunger  and  sick- 
ness, gave  up  hope,  lay  down,  and  died  miserable  deaths, 
lonely  in  the  midst  of  thousands  almost  as  badly  off  as 
themselves;  each  engaged  in  a struggle  for  life,  and  power- 
less to  help  a fellow  man.  Early  every  morning  on  my  trip 


'll  2 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


for  water,  of  which  we  endeavored  to  lay  in  the  day’s  supply 
before  the  camp  was  aroused,  and  while  the  miserable  stream 
was  comparatively  clear,  I would  encounter  a score  or  more 
of  poor  creatures  who  had  crawled  down  to  get  a drink  dur- 
ing the  night  and  were  unable  to  get  back,  covered  with  ver- 
min and  filth,  maggots  filling  up  the  nose,  eyes  and  mouth, 
while  the  breath  of  life  still  lingered-  in  their  emaciated 
bodies — some  whose  eyes  were  already  set  in  death,  others 
too  far  gone  to  speak  or  move — sights  like  these  language 
cannot  describe.  Here  were  men  of  intelligence  and  afflu- 
ence who  had  surrendered  the  comforts  of  life,  leaving  every- 
thing behind  to  answer  their  country’s  call,  with  wives  and 
little  ones  at  home  unconscious  of  their  awful  sufferings, 
waiting  anxiously  some  tidings  of  the  missing  one.  Moth- 
ers, sisters,  fathers  and  brothers  in  their  Northern  homes  were 
expecting  the  return  of  loved  sons  and  brothers;  yet  here 
they  lay  strewn  along  the  filthy  swamp,  dead  and  dying.  No 
word  of  comfort  reached  their  ear.  No  mother,  wife,  or  little 
ones  to  gather  around  them  in  this  their  last  hour;  not  even  a 
stranger  to  speak  a word  of  cheer,  or  point  them  to  that  4 far 
away  home  of  the  soul.’  No,  shut  out  from  all  earthly  sym- 
pathy, surrounded  by  scenes  of  horror  and  disgust,  in  the 
hands  of  merciless,  unrelenting  captors,  they  died  like  dogs. 

“ Life  at  Andersonville  was  necessarily  selfish.  True,  as 
in  civil  life,  bullies  had  their  followers  and  great  minds  their 
worshipers,  but  in  the  struggle  for  existence  every  man  stood 
alone.  Life  was  the  prize  fought  for.  Every  ounce  of  food 
parted  with  to  help  a fellow-man  was  a drop  of  blood  from 
the  giver,  that  could  poorly  be  spared.  No  matter  how  the 
heart  was  wrung  with  sympathy  for  others,  no  material  heip 
could  be  imparted.  That  which  was  necessary  to  relieve 
want  and  suffering  was  not  ours  to  give.  Day  after  day  we 
were  compelled  to  see  a friend,  old  schoolmate  or  stranger, 
sink  under  the  awful  pressure,  and  be  drawn  closer  and  closer 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIE  WAR. 


JI3 


to  a cruel  death,  without  power  to  alleviate  their  sufferings. 
To  abandon  the  dead  and  dying  and  inspire  hope  in  the  living, 
was  all  that  was  left  us. 

“ I will  relate  a couple  of  interesting  incidents  which 
occurred  during  my  imprisonment  in  this  horrible  pen,  one 
of  which  was  a remarkable  display  of  Divine  Providence, 
and  if  the  time  of  miracles  had  not  long  since  passed,  might 
properly  be  classed  among  the  catalogue  of  wonders  justly 
ascribed  to  supernatural  causes.  Both  of  these  incidents  have 
been  published  in  leading  newspapers,  and  I as  an  eye-witness 
of  the  facts,  and  because  they  justly  form  a part  of  every 
man’s  experience  who  was  confined  in  Andersonville  at  that 
time,  reproduce  them  here.  I have  previously  told  you  of 
the  bad  condition  of  the  stream  that  supplied  us  with  water. 
This  was  our  only  drink  until  about  the  ist  of  August.  One 
hot  afternoon,  after  a heavy  shower  of  rain,  just  outside  the 
Ulead  line,’  where  we  were  not  allowed  to  go,  on  the  descent 
of  the  hill  where  the  camp  was  situated,  there  suddenly 
appeared  a jet  of  pure  cold  water,  as  large  as  a man’s  thumb, 
springing  out  of  the  hitherto  dry,  sandy,  barren  earth,  and 
describing  an  arch  of  about  a foot  in  length  until  it  reached 
the  ground  again.  A cup  was  fastened  to  a stick,  reached 
over  the  4 dead  line,’  and  good  water  procured.  It  did  not 
flow  fast  enough  to  supply  the  camp,  but  hundreds,  even 
thousands,  enjoyed  its  refreshing  draughts,  the  priceless  gift 
of  One  from  whose  fevered  lips  had  once  burst  the  cry,  CI 
thirst!’  who  saw  and  knew  our  sufferings,  and  in  His  infinite 
wisdom  placed  it  where  improvident  humanity  could  not 
trample  it  out  of  existence.  I do  not  know  whether  it  flows 
to  this  day  or  not,  but  it  was  still  performing  its  mission  of 
mercy  when  I left  the  camp. 

“ When  so  large  and  so  miscellaneous  a body  of  men  as 
were  those  confined  in  Andersonville,  are  freed  from  the 
restrictions  imposed  for  the  better  government  of  society,  a 

8 


I 14  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

great  deal  of  the  worst  side  of  human  nature  becomes  visible. 
The  weak  were  a prey  to  the  strong,  stealing  was  carried  on 
without  limit,  and  deeds  of  lawlessness  were  of  hourly  occur- 
rence. No  fear  of  law  stood  in  the  way  of  any  act  of  depreda- 
tion. V ery  severe  methods  were  resorted  to  by  the  order-loving 
part  of  the  camp  to  curtail  the  evil  propensities  of  the  mali- 
cious. During  the  latter  part  of  June,  the  camp  was  infested 
by  a gang  of  desperadoes,  composed  of  our  own  men,  who 
did  not  hesitate  in  the  dead  hour  of  night  to  murder  any  one 
who  might  have  succeeded  in  retaining  money  or  valuables 
in  their  possession,  burying  their  bodies  in  the  swamp.  For 
protection,  a police  force  of  500  men  was  organized,  which 
was  ever  after  retained  in  camp  to  preserve  order.  The  per- 
petrators of  these  outrages  were  ferreted  out,  and  brought 
before  a self-constituted  court-martial.  It  was  discovered  that 
an  organized  gang  of  eighty  lawless  characters  had  banded 
themselves  together  for  the  purpose  of  plunder,  who  hesi- 
tated at  no  deed  to  accomplish  their  object.  Seven  of  these 
men  were  found  guilty,  and  sentenced  to  be  hung,  the  rebels 
consenting  to  keep  them  safely  under  guard  till  the  day  of 
execution.  A scaffold  was  erected  inside  the  stockade,  and 
on  the  nth  day  of  July,  six  of  the  condemned  men  were 
brought  in  and  hung  in  the  presence  of  all  the  prisoners  and 
4,000  of  the  rebel  guards,  as  a warning  to  lawless  characters. 
One  of  the  men  had  been  previously  shot  by  the  guard  while 
in  the  act  of  trying  to  escape.  This  prompt  treatment  put  a 
stop  to  such  lawlessness. 

“ As  an  incident  of  this  remarkable  execution,  and  to 
show  the  power  of  one  desperate  man  over  an  unorganized 
body  of  men,  while  the  prisoners  were  being  led  to  the  scaf- 
fold, one  of  them,  the  acknowledged  leader  of  the  gang,  who 
had  assumed  the  name  of  Mosby,  broke  from  his  guard  and 
ran.  The  immense  crowd  of  prisoners  involuntarily  parted, 
making  a clear  pathway  for  him,  and  it  was  with  considerable 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


”5 


difficulty  that  he  was  recaptured  and  brought  to  the  gallows. 
As  the  drop  fell,  and  the  unfortunate  wretches  were  launched 
in  mid  air,  one  of  the  ropes  broke,  and  its  victim  fell  with  a 
dull  thud  to  the  ground;  but  he  was  promptly  taken  up  and 
hung  again. 

“ The  question  has  often  been  asked  why  we  did  not  try 
to  escape.  The  reason  is  that  at  no  time  while  I was  at 
Andersonville  were  over  one-third  of  the  prisoners  capable  of 
active  exertion,  and  any  effort  on  the  part  of  those  able  to 
make  the  attempt,  would  have  brought  on  a wholesale  slaugh- 
ter of  helpless,  unarmed  men.  Artillery  was  planted  so  as 
to  sweep  every  inch  of  the  camp.  Thousands  would  have 
been  killed  or  wounded,  and  most  of  the  others  recaptured, 
and,  if  possible,  treated  worse  than  before.  Our  only  chance 
of  escape  was  in  tunneling  under  the  stockade,  which  was 
slow  work,  and  very  uncertain.  Many  attempts  were  made 
in  this  direction,  only  a few  of  which  ever  proved  successful. 
The  distance  from  the  4 dead  line  ’ to  the  stockade  was  about 
sixteen  feet,  and  it  certainly  was  not  safe  to  emerge  from  the 
ground  nearer  than  the  same  distance  from  the  other  side* 
The  ground  was  loose  and  sandy  on  top,  and  a tunnel  nec- 
essarily had  to  be  deep  in  the  center  and  narrow  all  the  way 
through  to  prevent  the  earth  from  caving  in.  In  addition  to 
the  great  labor  of  the  undertaking  was  the  constant  danger  of 
detection.  The  Confederate  officer  of  the  guard  patroled 
the  camp  outside  the  stockade  every  morning  with  a pack  of 
bloodhounds;  besides  which,  spies  were  in  our  midst  all  the 
time,  as  well  as  some  of  our  own  men  employed  to  watch  our 
movements. 

“ Some  idea  of  the  labor,  difficulties  and  disappointments 
of  tunneling  may  be  gathered  from  one  of  our  attempts. 
Three  of  us  at  one  time  started  a tunnel  as  close  as  possible 
to  the  ‘dead  line.’  We  carefully  hid  it  from  view  by  putting 
up  an  old  piece  of  shelter  tent  possessed  by  one  of  the  party. 


ii  6 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


Under  this  tent,  one  of  us  was  ostensibly  sick,  and  lay  during 
the  daytime  directly  over  the  hole  on  a board  purchased  from 
one  of  the  speculators.  At  night  we  dug  out  the  dirt  with  a 
piece  of  tin  taken  from  an  old  canteen,  and  carried  it  off  in 
our  clothes,  first  tying  our  pant-legs  tight  around  our  ankles 
and  coat-sleeves  around  our  wrists,  then  filling  these  with  dirt 
as  well  as  our  pockets,  besides  what  we  could  stuff  inside  the 
bodies  of  our  shirts.  After  being  thus  loaded,  we  started  for 
the  swamp,  where  we  buried  the  fresh  dirt,  carefully  covering 
each  deposit  with  the  filthy  surface  of  the  swamp.  The 
utmost  caution  was  necessary,  not  only  to  escape  the  suspicion 
of  the  guard,  whose  beat  ran  past  the  scene  of  our  operations, 
but  also  to  keep  our  work  hidden  from  the  other  prisoners 
around  us.  In  this  slow  way  we  worked  for  over  two  weeks, 
and  calculated  we  had  got  about  under  the  stockade.  We 
worked  with  a will,  animated  by  a hope  of  liberty,  and  imag- 
ined we  could  almost  sniff  the  pure  free  air  outside.  Our 
venture  was  a profound  secret,  though  we  determined  when 
the  work  was  accomplished,  to  give  several  of  our  friends  the 
opportunity  to  get  out  after  we  were  gone.  This  determina- 
tion was  not  altogether  freed  from  selfishness  on  our  part,  as 
we  knew  the  bloodhounds  would  probably  follow  the  fresh- 
est trails,  and  the  last  ones  out  would  be  more  likely  to 
attract  the  attention  of  the  guard  than  the  first.  Poor  human 
hopes!  In  spite  of  our  well-laid  plans,  our  house  was  verita- 
bly built  upon  the  sand.  Our  disappointment  can  possibly  be 
better  imagined  than  described  when,  one  afternoon,  a rebel 
sergeant  and  four  guards  with  shovels,  came  into  camp,  and 
marched  directly  to  the  tent,  took  off  the  board,  and  com- 
menced to  fill  up  our  tunnel.  Our  c sick  5 comrade  had  by 
the  merest  chance  crawled  out  after  a drink  of  water,  and  the 
other  two  of  us  were  spending  the  time  with  acquaintances. 
We  had  the  mortification  of  seeing  the  fruits  of  our  toil  vanish 
before  our  eyes,  and  our  hopes  once  more  laid  lower  than  ever. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  Cl  VIE  WAR.  I 1 7 

Some  treacherous  prisoner  or  rebel  spy  had  discovered  our 
work  and  betrayed  us.  We  were  only  too  glad  that  we  all 
escaped  detection,  though  the  rebels  made  no  effort  to  find 
us  beyond  asking  the  prisoners  in  the  immediate  vicinity. 
Any  of  the  prisoners  who  were  found  guilty  of  betraying 
their  fellows  in  an  attempt  to  escape,  were  in  great  danger 
of  lynch  law.  I have  witnessed  several  in  the  act  of  having 
one-half  their  head  shaved,  and  a letter  4 T ’ branded  on  with 
a hot  iron. 

44  At  one  time  a plot  was  on  foot  to  hoist  the  Stars  and 
Stripes,  a small  flag  which  had  been  preserved  by  a soldier, 
raise  an  insurrection,  capture  the  batteries,  and  turn  them  on 
the  guards — the  4th  of  July,  1864,  being  set  as  the  day  for  its 
execution.  Through  the  perfidy  of  some  of  our  own  men 
or  by  the  aid  of  spies,  it  was  made  known  to  the  enemy,  who 
made  the  necessary  preparations  to  resist  it,  and  gave  us  no- 
tice that  upon  the  first  attempt  on  our  part  to  carry  out  such 
a scheme,  they  would  open  fire  and  keep  it  up  while  there 
was  a prisoner  left  alive.  This  fact,  coupled  with  the  fearful 
slaughter  of  the  sick  and  helpless,  as  well  as  of  the  able- 
bodied,  which  would  be  the  inevitable  result,  caused  us  to 
abandon  the  enterprise.  The  rebels  contented  themselves 
with  firing  blank  cartridges  over  the  camp  at  intervals  during 
the  day,  as  a means  of  intimidation. 

44  After  the  20th  of  July  very  few  prisoners  were  brought 
to  Anderson ville — none  at  all  from  the  Army  of  the  Po- 
tomac, and  but  few  from  Sherman’s  army.  News  was  con- 
sequently scarce.  An  occasional  rebel  sheet  fell  into  some 
one’s  possession,  which  was  eagerly  scanned  by  all  who  could 
get  a chance  at  it.  The  sufferings  were  on  the  increase. 
Thousands  were  prostrated  by  scurvy  and  diarrhoea.  Hopes 
of  exchange  or  chances  of  escape  grew  less  day  by  day. 
The  poor  men  were  carried  off  to  the  dead  house  by  scores, 
weakened  and  dispirited  by  4 hope  deferred,’  added  to  dis- 


lt8  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

ease,  exposure,  and  extreme  heat.  Nothing  served  to  break 
the  monotony  made  up  of  continual  suffering  and  scene?  of 
horror,  for  even  the  excitement  of  such  a life,  death,  murder, 
thefts,  and  the  ravings  of  lunatics  crazed  by  suffering,  became 
wearisome  monotony  to  those  whose  vitals  were  pierced  by  the 
pangs  of  starvation  and  sensibilities  blunted  by  contact 
with  the  unspeakable  horrors  of  a living  death.  Captain 
Wirz,  the  subordinate  commander,  was  daily  seen  riding 
through  camp  in  his  shirt  sleeves  on  an  old  gray  horse,  like 
an  emissary  of  Satan,  inspecting  the  work  of  human  des- 
truction. Brigadier-General  Winder,  commander  of  the 
post,  never  entered  the  camp,  and  is  said  never  to  have  seen 
the  inside  of  the  stockade.  The  utter  want  of  all  feeling  of 
humanity  in  these  two  men,  as  brought  out  at  the  trial  of 
Captain  Wirz  in  Washington,  shows  how  well  they  were 
chosen  to  carry  out  the  intentions  of  the  authorities  at  Rich- 
mond. It  almost  surpasses  belief  that  these  men,  instead  of 
endeavoring  to  relieve,  studied  ways  and  means  to  add  to  the 
awful  character  of  the  situation.  It  is  a matter  of  record  that 
the  authorities  at  the  Confederate  capital  were  cognizant  of  the 
situation.  It  is  a matter  of  record  that  General  Winder  was 
acquainted  with  the  condition  of  the  prisoners;  and  to  the 
everlasting  dishonor  of  the  men  who  held  the  reins  of  the 
rebel  government,  it  is  also  a matter  of  record  that  nothing  was 
done  to  relieve  our  sufferings.  It  is  urged  by  some  that  the 
South  was  unable  to  do  better  by  us.  Granting  that  such 
was  the  case,  we  were  guilty  of  no  other  crime  than  defend- 
ing our  country,  and  common  humanity  would  have  de- 
manded our  parole.  To  do  battle  for  our  flag  and  country  is 
the  least  that  any  man  can  do,  and  is  an  honor  rather  than 
a crime  punishable  by  slow  torture  and  lingering  death.  But 
there  is  not  even  this  poor  excuse  left,  for  it  has  been  abund- 
antly proven  that  they  did  not  do  what  they  could,  and  that 
proof  has  come  from  Confederate  sources.  The  official  re* 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL/  WAR.  I 19 

port  of  Col.  D.  T.  Chandler,  an  inspector-general  in  the  rebel 
service,  found  on  file  in  the  archives  of  the  Confederacy, 
dated  August  5,  1864,  in  the  time  of  our  extreme  suffering, 
forever  silences  all  attempts  to  palliate  this  gigantic  crime.  At 
the  trial  of  Captain  Wirz,  Colonel  Chandler  entirely  verified 
this  report,  and  stated  that  he  had  remonstrated  with  General 
Winder,  suggested  better  food,  draining  the  swamps,  and 
other  sanitary  measures.  To  these  humane  suggestions  Win- 
der replied,  c Better  let  one-half  die,  so  that  we  can  take  care 
of  the  remainder.’  I am  giving  a personal  sketch  for  the 
benefit  of  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished 
History,  and  let  the  society  record  that  now,  after  more  than 
nineteen  years  from  the  date  of  these  events,  my  ingenuity 
fails  to  suggest  anything  that  could  be  done  that  was  not 
done  to  render  our  lives  as  prisoners  and  human  beings  most 
miserable. 

“ During  the  hot  months  of  July  and  August  the  suffer- 
ings were  horrible  to  contemplate.  The  death-rate  increased 
to  1 for  every  6$/%.  In  August  it  stood  1 out  of  10^,  while 
in  September  it  increased  again  to  one  out  of  every  three! 
The  latter  rate  is  accounted  for,  however,  by  the  fact  that  all 
but  10,000  of  the  prisoners,  and  those  the  worst  cases,  were 
sent  to  other  points  during  this  month,  thus  making  a larger 
ratio  of  deaths  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  prisoners  than 
in  any  previous  month,  there  being  31,693  prisoners  in  camp 
in  August,  and  8,218  in  September.  The  total  number  of 
deaths  in  July  was  4,742,  an  average  of  154  per  day.  It 
always  seemed  to  me  providential  that  no  contagious  disease 
ever  broke  out  in  camp.  Every  death  that  occurred  there 
was  a monument  to  rebel  barbarity.  Great  inducements 
were  held  out  to  our  men  to  save  their  lives  by  taking  the 
oath  of  allegiance  to  the  rebels.  They  repeatedly  told  us  that 
our  government  had  deserted  us  and  refused  to  exchange 
prisoners,  thus  practically  abandoning  us  to  our  fate.  In  the 


120 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


midst  of  our  sufferings,  with  death  staring  us  in  the  face  on 
every  side  in  its  most  horrible  form,  they  held  out  for  us  our 
salvation — dishonor;  but,  thank  God,  the  suffering  boys  pre- 
ferred death,  and  the  rebel  ranks  were  not  augmented  by 
recruits  from  Andersonville.” 

This  was  greeted  with  applause  and  exclamations  of 
“ Three  cheers  for  the  Andersonville  boys!  ” 

uThe  reputation  of  Andersonville  as  a place  of  cruelty,” 
continued  Mr.  Bailey,  “ is  world-renowned.  Perhaps  no 
place  in  history  achieved  a more  unenviable  name  in  the  short 
period  of  fourteen  months,  than  this  insignificant  spot.  Its 
history  from  the  15th  of  February,  1864,  when  the  first 
Union  prisoner  was  received  within  its  hated  walls,  to  the 
10th  of  April,  1865,  can  never  be  justly  written  by  pen,  or 
told  in  language.  The  unfolding  of  the  chapter  of  atrocities 
at  the  trial  of  Captain  Wirz,  was  but  a page.  The  14,461 
names  inscribed  upon  as  many  rude  head-boards  in  the 
Andersonville  cemetery,  are  significant  of  as  many  unwritten 
chapters  of  awful  suffering  and  death.  The  451  graves 
marked  c unknown  ’ tell  a fearful  story, — names  and  resting- 
places  blotted  out  of  existence; — no,  shut  out  from  human  vis- 
ion only,  not  from  the  All-Seeing  Eye  of  the  Great  Com- 
mander. Cruelties  were  perpetrated  and  sufferings  endured, 
unparalleled  in  the  history  of  civilization,  and  unapproached 
in  the  annals  of  barbarism,  save  by  the  bitter  persecution  of 
the  early  Christians,  or  the  sufferings  of  the  unfortunate 
Waldenses,  in  their  Alpine  retreats.  Not  less  unrelenting  in 
cruelty  were  these  twin  tyrants  of  modern  times,  Winder  and 
Wirz,  than  the  silver-veiled  Prophet  of  the  East,  who  held 
his  victims  by  an  oath  imposed  in  the  charnel-vault,  and 
pledged  in  the  blood  of  the  dead.” 

The  camp-fire  was  adjourned,  and  the  soldiers  went  quietly 
away,  some  of  them  shadowed  by  this  appalling  memory? 
while,  with  the  others,  for  once  hilarity  was  a foreign  thing. 


CAMP-FIRE  IX. 


THE  FLORENCE  PRISON HOMEWARD  BOUND PATHETIC 

INCIDENTS. 

USINE.SS  being  resumed  Mr.  Bailey  continued  his  ex- 
perience : 

ui\uout  the  middle  of  September  Sherman’s  army 
having  pressed  the  forces  of  General  Hood  back  too  far  for 
the  safe  keeping  of  prisoners  at  Andersonville,  the  camp  was 
partially  broken  up,  and  most  of  the  prisoners  distributed  be- 
tween Miiar.,  Ga.,  Cahawba,  Ala.,  and  Florence,  S.  C.  About 
10,000  were  retained  at  the  old  camp.  It  was  my  ill -fortune 
to  be  among  those  who  were  taken  to  Florence,  where  our 
sufferings  were  greatly  increased  by  starvation  and  exposure 
to  cold  weather,  as  well  as  the  unexampled  brutality  of  our 
commanding  officer. 

44  On  the  12th  day  of  September,  1864,  several  thousand 
of  the  prisoners  who  had  been  confined  at  Andersonville  were 
placed  in  cattle  cars,  destined  for  some  point  then  unknown, 
— anywhere  to  escape  Sherman.  It  was  evident  to  us  that  it 
was  something  of  a question  in  the  minds  of  our  captors  just 
where  we  snould  be  taken  for  safe  keeping.  On  the  15th  of 
the  month  we  were  unloaded  at  Florence,  S.  C.,  a town  106 
miles  north  of  Charleston.  No  preparations  had  been  made 
for  our  reception,  and  we  were  turned  loose  in  open  field, 
with  a double  chain  of  sentinels  around  us.  Rations  were 
not  issued  regularly  for  some  time.  Meal  and  rice  were  dealt 
out  to  us  in  a table-spoon,  not  exceeding  three  spoonfuls  on 
some  days.  During  the  first  three  weeks  of  our  stay  at 

121 


122 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


Florence,  the  post  was  commanded  by  a lieutenant-colonel 
whose  name  I cannot  now  recall.  He  was  a very  humane 
man,  and  was  often  moved  to  tears  by  the  suffering  and  des- 
titution amongst  the  prisoners.  He  told  me  upon  one  occa- 
sion, just  previous  to  leaving  us,  that  he  could  not  stay  there 
and  witness  such  suffering, — he  would  rather  turn  the  prison- 
ers all  loose.  He  had  no  heart  for  this  phase  of  civil  war. 
He  had  the  kindness  to  tell  the  prisoners  that,  if  any  of 
them  wanted  to  write  home,  he  would  himself  deliver  the 
letters  on  board  the  Union  flag-of-truce  boat.  The  Confed- 
erate postage  was  ten  cents  in  silver,  and  as  there  were  very 
few  dimes  among  the  prisoners,  he  paid  the  postage  him- 
self. My  letter  reached  home  in  Pennsylvania  about  two 
weeks  afterward,  but  as  all  our  letters  were  examined  before 
passing  the  rebel  lines,  we  were  instructed  to  write  nothing 
but  pleasing  news  to  our  Northern  friends.  A letter  I mailed 
at  Andersonville  July  4,  I took  from  the  post-office  at  Will- 
iamsport, Pa.,  myself  in  the  following  March. 

“ Meanwhile  a stockade  was  being  erected  in  a neighboring 
wood, which,  being  completed, we  entered  October  2.  We  were 
formed  into  thousands,  sub-divided  into  hundreds,  instead  of 
detachments  of  nineties  and  thirties,  as  at  Andersonville.  The 
camp  was  designated  by  the  first,  second,  or  third  thousand, 
and  so  on.  A stream  also  ran  through  this  pen,  but  it  was 
deeper  and  more  rapid  than  the  one  at  Andersonville,  and  gave 
us  much  better  water.  Soon  came  a change  in  commanding 
officers.  One  Lieutenant  Barrett,  formerly  of  General  Mor- 
gan’s staff,  it  was  said,  whose  natural  ferocity  and  brutal 
cruelty  I have  never  seen  equaled,  was  placed  in  charge  of 
the  camp.  He  was  employed  previous  to  the  war  as  a slave 
driver,  and  was  a better  tool  in  the  hands  of  leading  author- 
ities for  the  handling  of  prisoners  according  to  the  code  than 
the  gentleman  whom  he  succeeded.  His  4 culcha  ’ and  early 
training  eminently  qualified  him  for  the  position  of  a human 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


I23 


butcher.  For  trivial  causes  he  would  ‘Tannerize’  the  entire 
camp  for  two  or  three  days  in  succession.  This  was  bad 
enough  for  well-fed  men,  but  for  half-starved  wretches  it  was 
simply  horrible.  I have  seen  him,  for  punishment  to  a man 
trying  to  escape,  tie  up  the  poor  unfortunate  by  the  thumbs, 
his  toes  just  reaching  the  ground,  and  kick  his  feet  from 
under  him,  laughing  at  his  shrieks  of  pain  as  his  whole  weight 
was  suspended  on  his  thumbs.  He  would  continue  this 
amusement  until  the  poor  fellow’s  thumbs  would  burst  open 
from  the  pressure.  I have  also  seen  him  take  a club  in  hand, 
and  walk  through  camp,  swinging  it  right  and  left,  hitting 
any  who  were  too  weak  to  get  out  of  his  way.  I have  seen 
him  stand  on  the  rail  over  the  gate  leading  into  camp,  and 
fire  his  revolver  at  random  amongst  the  prisoners.  These 
few  instances  of  the  brutal  character  of  Lieutenant  Barrett,  to 
which  I might  add  many  more,  will  show  you  how  well  the 
men  were  selected  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  purposes 
intended  toward  Union  prisoners. 

“ The  pen  at  Florence  was  modeled  very  much  after  the 
style  of  the  one  at  Andersonville,  only  much  smaller  in  ex- 
tent. The  c dead  line  ’ was  not  forgotten.  It  offered  too 
good  an  opportunity  to  shoot  prisoners  to  be  omitted.  Many 
a man  went  to  his  long  home  who  accidentally  passed  its 
boundaries,  for  in  many  places  the  railing  would  get  torn 
down,  and  the  line  between  life  and  death  could  only  be  dis- 
tinguished by  the  fact  that  no  footprints  were  visible  on  the 
other  side.  The  commissary  building  was  just  outside 
the  gate  leading  from  the  camp,  and  was  generally  well- 
stocked  with  provisions  which,  however,  were  dealt  out  spar- 
ingly enough  to  us.  The  weather  was  now  getting  colder,  and 
the  fall  rains  added  much  to  our  discomfort.  Meat  was  left 
out  of  our  rations  altogether,  and  our  meal  or  rice  was  re- 
duced to  one  pint  per  day,  and  a half  teaspoonful  of  salt 
every  second  day,  varied  occasionally  with  beans  instead  of 


124 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


meal.  Clothing  was  worn  threadbare;  our  knees  and  el- 
bows began  to  be  visible  through  well-worn  holes.  Affairs 
looked  dismal.  The  change  of  camp  had  deprived  me  of  my 
Plymouth  friends,  they  having  been  sent  to  Milan.  Fortu- 
nately the  new  stockade  had  been  erected  on  the  site  of  a piece 
of  woods,  and  the  brush  and  limbs  trimmed  off  the  logs  used 
in  its  construction  had  been  left  stacked  up  in  heaps  on  the 
ground.  I joined  in  with  eight  others,  belonging  to  the  old 
Bucktail  regiment,  and  confiscated  a pile  of  this  brush  and 
limbs,  and  commenced  the  erection  of  a shelter,  which,  by 
great  labor  under  difficulties,  we  accomplished.  We  first 
dug  down  about  two  feet  in  the  earth,  and  stood  up  the  limbs 
like  the  roof  of  a house,  or  after  the  style  of  an  4 A’  tent.  We 
then  covered  the  limbs  with  a light  brush,  and  on  top  of  that 
put  the  earth  which  we  had  dug  out.  Our  only  tool  for  this 
purpose  was  a half  canteen.  It  was  slow  work,  weak  and 
hungry  as  we  were,  but  we  finished  in  about  ten  days,  and 
from  that  time  had  a partial  shelter  from  the  weather.  This 
effort  on  our  part  undoubtedly  went  far  toward  the  preserva- 
tion of  our  lives,  and  it  was  needed,  as  we  began  to  be  much 
reduced  by  short  rations  and  want  of  meat.  We  took  the  pre- 
caution to  bury  all  the  surplus  wood  we  could  get  to  prevent 
it  from  being  stolen,  for  wood  soon  became  as  scarce  as  at 
Andersonville.  The  majority  of  prisoners  were  less  fortunate 
in  this  respect,  than  we.  Many  poor  wretches  burrowed  in 
the  earth  to  gain  shelter  from  wind  and  rain,  and  soon  lost  all 
appearance  of  human  beings.  Scarcely  had  our  shelter  been 
completed,  when  a calamity  happened  to  one  of  our  num- 
ber, which  shed  a dark  cloud  over  our  household.  One  of  our 
comrades  had  gone  down  to  the  brook  to  procure  water, 
which  we  were  in  the  habit  of  getting  by  walking  out  on  a 
log  across  the  stream  close  to  the  c dead  line.’  The  morning 
was  wet  and  muddy,  and  the  log  was  in  consequence  very 
slippery.  While  in  the  act  of  reaching  down  for  water,  he 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


I35 


slipped  and  fell  off  the  log  over  the  c dead  line  ’ into  the 
water,  about  two  feet  deep.  The  guard  immediately  shot 
him.  Some  of  us  hearing  the  shot  ran  down,  half  suspect- 
ing the  state  of  affairs,  and  implored  the  guard  to  let  us  take 
him  out,  but  not  until  the  officer  of  the  guard  with  a squad  of 
men  came  to  the  spot  and  covered  us  with  their  rifles,  were 
we  permitted  to  lift  out  our  friend,  who  breathed  his  last  as 
we  laid  him  on  the  bank.  Such  cold-blooded  murder  of 
Union  prisoners  under  circumstances  without  a shadow  of 
justification  were  of  daily  occurrence,  and  we  felt  our  man- 
hood crushed  to  the  very  earth,  being  powerless  to  resist  such 
atrocities. 

“ The  police  system  established  at  Andersonville  became 
the  ruling  power  at  Florence.  While  it  was  far  from  perfect, 
it  was  better  than  no  control  at  all,  and  although  the  bounds 
of  justice  were  frequently  passed  in  the  display  of  self-consti- 
tuted authority,  yet  life  and  rights  were  comparatively  safe  to 
the  mass.  The  ordinary  punishment  of  criminals  consisted  of 
a prescribed  number  of  lashes  on  the  bare  back,  or  running 
the  gauntlet  and  dodging  what  blows  the  prisoner’s  tactics 
and  ability  would  permit.  I am  satisfied  that  the  trial  of 
Guiteau  at  the  police  court  of  either  Andersonville  or 
Florence,  would  have  been  conducted  without  the  aid  of  red 
tape,  and  ended  entirely  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  American 
people  in  less  than  two  hours. 

“ During  the  month  of  November  we  passed  our  darkest 
days  of  misery  and  distress.  We  got  up  hungry  and  cold  in 
the  morning,  and  laid  down  at  night  the  same.  The  rations 
were  again  reduced  in  quantity,  and  men  were  brought  to  the 
direst  extremities.  I have  seen  men,  impelled  by  hunger,  ac- 
complish feats  which  cannot  be  described  here. 

“Even  the  rumors  of  exchange,  which  had  been  put  in 
circulation  from  time  to  time  to  raise  the  drooping  spirits  of 
the  despondent,  died  out.  The  brave  hearts  who  dared  to 


126 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


hope  against  hope  were  daily  growing  fewer,  so  utterly  de- 
serted did  we  seem  to  be  by  the  outer  world.  For  simple 
pretexts  our  poor  food  was  often  denied  us,  and  many  men 
were  rendered  insane  by  the  pangs  of  hunger.  Many  a long 
night  we  lay  sleepless  from  cold,  wet  and  hunger,  when  it 
seemed  as  though  one  were  in  the  regions  of  the  damned. 
Men  crazed  and  idiotic  from  starvation  rambled  by  scores  and 
hundreds  through  camp,  raving  lunatics,  muttering  their  un- 
intelligible moanings,  their  eye-balls  protruding  with  a wild, 
unearthly  glare,  faces  and  bodies  thin  and  emaciated — they' 
seemed  like  ghostly  apparitions  from  the  unknown  worlds 
making  night  frightful  with  groans  of  terror,  and  wails  of 
despair.  Many  were  in  this  condition  who  were  men  of  edu- 
cation and  ability,  and  had  been  reared  in  refined  and  com- 
fortable homes.  The  only  hope  of  escape  from  this  awful 
state  of  affairs  held  out  to  us,  was  the  oath  of  allegiance  to 
the  Confederacy.  Their  recruiting  officers  were  daily  in 
camp,  and  some  were  induced,  as  the  only  means  of  preserv- 
ing their  lives,  to  take  the  oath  and  join  the  rebel  army,  re- 
solving to  escape  at  the  first  opportunity.  A Canadian  by 
the  name  of  Haley,  with  whom  I was  acquainted,  was 
among  those  who  took  the  oath  and  went  out.  He  had  be- 
longed to  the  English  army  in  Canada,  and,  deserting  it, 
joined  the  Union  army;  then  deserting  our  side,  joined  the 
rebels,  and  when  I arrived  at  parole  camp,  Annapolis,  a 
month  later,  his  was  the  first  familiar  face  I saw.  He  had 
been  placed  on  picket  guard,  and  deserted  the  rebels  within  a 
week  after  he  got  out  of  Florence.  But  to  the  majority  of 
us,  the  idea  was  worse  than  death.  They  might  torture  us 
with  cruelty,  they  might  kill  us  with  starvation;  but  compel 
us  to  swear  allegiance  to  a band  of  traitors  whose  purpose  it 
was  to  destroy  the  best  government  God  ever  gave  to  man, 
they  could  not. 

“ During  the  first  of  this  month  our  government  sue- 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


I27 


ceeded  in  sending  through  the  lines  a quantity  of  blankets  for 
our  use,  but  very  few  of  them  ever  got  into  our  possession. 
We  were  drawn  up  into  line  by  hundreds,  and  marched  sin- 
gle file  past  a bag  containing  six  black  beans  and  ninety-four 
white  ones.  Each  prisoner  drew  out  a bean;  those  who  held 
black  beans  got  blankets, — six  to  cover  a hundred  men.  The 
remainder  of  the  blankets  were  confiscated  by  the  rebels. 
The  number  of  sick  and  helpless  increased  so  fast  that  a hos- 
pital was  formed  in  a corner  of  the  stockade,  attended  by  two 
or  three  rebel  surgeons.  Not  the  least  of  the  dangers  to  be 
avoided  was  gangrene.  One  of  our  comrades  named  Rob- 
erts, a very  promising  young  man,  had  hurt  his  foot  slightly 
before  leaving  Andersonville.  From  a minute  scratch  it  de- 
veloped into  a serious  wound,  until  finally  he  was  taken  to 
the  hospital  and  had  his  foo.t  amputated.  But  it  was  too  late 
— the  virulent  poison  had  penetrated  his  entire  system.  He 
used  to  come  from  the  hospital  to  see  us  as  long  as  he  could, 
but  his  visits  ceased,  and,  as  we  were  not  permitted  to  go  and 
see  him,  his  light  went  out  alone  and  among  strangers.  These 
were  our  darkest  hours.  The  sands  in  the  hour  glass  were 
running  low.  Day  by  day  we  grew  weaker  and  more  help- 
less, and  yet  the  time  of  deliverance  seemed  no  nearer  than  at 
first. 

“ Daily  we  visited  among  our  friends  and  acquaintances  to 
see  how  each  was  getting  along — to  learn  who  had  been 
touched  by  the  death  messenger,  and  who  were  left;  to  re- 
ceive and  impart  messages  to  be  carried  by  the  survivors  to 
far-off  friends  whom  we  might  not  see  again;  to  exchange 
farewells  with  the  dying;  to  look  at  the  living  with  the  mute 
inquiry,  Who  among  us  will  be  the  next?  I remember,  as 
if  but  yesterday,  sitting  by  the  side  of  a dying  comrade,  who 
said,  4 Frank,  we  were  boys  together,  living  as  neighbors;  we 
went  to  school  together  (and  here  the  tears  rolled  down  his 
cheeks),  but  I am  going  fast,  and  all  that  is  left  of  Oscar 


128 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


Henry  will  soon  be  carried  to  the  deadhouse.  When  3^011  go 
back  1 want  you  to  go  and  see  my  poor  old  mother — tell  her 
that  I died  like  a man.’  Such  were  the  messages  which 
weighed  down  our  already  heavy  hearts.  It  seemed  to  us 
then  that  if  we  could  be  permitted  to  take  one  more  look  at 
home  and  friends,  and  a hearty  meal  around  the  family  table, 
our  fondest  expectations  on  this  earth  would  be  fully  realized. 

“ But  ’tis  well  that  the  sun  does  not  always  remain  below 
the  horizon.  With  what  delight  we  hailed  the  first  rays  of 
morning  light!  On  the  morning  of  November  27  the  first 
thousand  was  marched  outside  the  stockade,  and  the  sickest 
and  most  destitute  ones  selected  for  parole  and  taken  to  Sa- 
vannah. The  next  morning  the  second  thousand,  to  which  I 
belonged,  was  called  out.  As  the  examining  surgeon  passed 
down  the  lines,  selecting  the  worst  cases,  for  once  in  my  life  I 
desired  to  look  sick.  He  stopped  before  me,  and  asked  a few 
questions,  which  I answered  as  well  as  my  throbbing  heart 
and  the  lump  in  my  throat  would  allow.  He  then  said,  4 Tou 
may  go!'  Controlling  my  emotions  as  best  I could,  I went 
forward  and  signed  the  parole.  Those  of  us  who  had  signed 
the  parole  were  permitted  to  sleep  outside  the  stockade  that 
night,  though  well  guarded;  while  those  less  fortunate  were 
marched  back  to  the  bull  pen.  Early  next  morning  we  got 
on  freight  cars  destined  for  Charleston,  where  we  arrived  in 
the  evening.  But  alas!  we  learned  to  our  sorrow  that  the 
Union  General  Foster  had  intercepted  communications  to 
Savannah,  whither  we  were  going  for  exchange.  This  is  the 
only  instance  I can  think  of  when  a Union  victory  was  un- 
welcome news.  This  one  was  ill-timed  and  out  of  place. 
We  remained  in  Charleston  three  days,  waiting  to  go  through. 
Our  forces  were  shelling  the  city  all  the  time,,  and  no  arrange- 
ments could  be  effected  for  our  transfer  to  the  Union  lines. 
We  were  again  placed  on  cars  and  our  faces  turned  toward 
the  4 bull  pen  5 at  Florence.  Many  desperate  efforts  were 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


I29 


made  to  escape  that  day  by  jumping  from  the  cars.  The 
guards  kept  up  a desultory  fire  from  the  roofs  of  the  cars  to 
show  that  they  were  on  the  alert.  Our  aspect  was  sorrowful 
and  our  hearts  sad  as  we  once  more  entered  that  hated, 
dreaded  place;  it  seemed  as  if  fate  had  conspired  against  us. 

44  Once  more  our  drooping  spirits  were  revived.  On  the 
5th  of  December  we  were  again  called  out,  and  taken  back 
to  Charleston  that  night.  It  was  a ride  long  to  be  remem- 
bered. The  cars  were  not  only  filled  inside  but  on  top.  We 
traveled  all  night,  over  a hundred  miles,  with  a strong,  cold, 
December  wind  in  our  faces.  I crouched  behind  a large  man 
with  an  overcoat  on,  who  had  laid  down  on  the  car  roof,  to 
shield,  if  possible,  my  bare  knees  and  elbows  from  the  piti- 
less storm.  When  morning  came  and  our  destination  was 
reached,  we  were  ordered  to  get  off  and  embark  on  a steamer 
lying  at  the  wharf.  I tried  to  arouse  my  strange  friend 
whom  I had  used  as  a fortification  during  the  night,  but  he 
was  dead! — paroled  with  us,  but  gone  home  before  us. 
About  9 o’clock  in  the  morning  the  rebel  steamer  started  for 
Fort  Sumter,  where  me  met  our  own  boat,  to  which  we  were 
transferred,  within  a mile  of  its  battered  walls.  The  emotions 
that  filled  our  hearts  at  the  sight  of  the  old  Stars  and  Stripes 
waving  above  our  heads,  it  is  impossible  to  describe.  It  was 
like  a dream.  The  tears  would  come  from  very  joy — a joy 
that  will  endure  while  life  lasts,  for  I can  never  refer  to  that 
moment  of  supreme  relief,  without  a full  heart.  As  soon  as 
we  were  on  board  our  steamer,  we  received  a new  suit  of 
clothes  and  a clean  meal.  We  laid  down  that  night  with 
lighter  hearts  than  we  had  had  for  many  a long  month.  The 
next  day  we  were  transferred  to  an  ocean  steamer,  and  sailed 
4 homeward-bound  ’ from  Charleston  harbor. 

44 A few  months  later,  on  the  field  of  Appomattox,  some  of 
us  were  permitted  to  step  across  the  4 bloody  chasm,’  and  re- 
ceive the  stacked  arms  and  drooping  battle-flags  which  de- 
9 


13° 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


noted  the  downfall  of  rebellion,  and  assured  us  that  our  suf- 
ferings had  not  been  in  vain. 

“ The  incidents  I have  related  form  but  an  individual  ex- 
perience, the  half  untold,  in  a chapter  which  one  might  al- 
most wish  had  never  been  written.  When  I look  back  and 
review  my  experience  as  a prisoner,  I am,  at  times,  disposed 
to  doubt  my  own  senses,  or  the  soundness  of  my  mind — so 
incredible  does  it  appear  that  such  barbarities  would  be  al- 
lowed within  the  pale  of  civilization.  But  the  world  will 
not  suffer  the  memory  of  such  atrocities  to  die.  How  well 
they  carried  out  their  threats  of  extermination  is  proved  by 
testimony  more  conclusive  than  was  ever  brought  to  bear  on 
a similar  case. 

“ The  time  has  passed  to  inquire  whether  punishment  has 
been  meted  out  to  the  authors  of  this  suffering,  but  there  will 
come  a day  when  the  angel  of  justice  will  uncover  the  silent 
mounds  of  earth,  and  bid  the  scores  of  thousands  of  ghastly, 
emaciated  victims  of  Southern  prison  pens  come  forth  and 
confront  the  keepers  at  the  bar  of  the  great  Unerring  Judge, 
indicting  them  with  blacker  crimes  than  the  world  will  ever 
know,  because  it  is  impossible  for  human  mind  to  compre- 
hend, or  words  borne  on  human  tongue  to  tell,  the  suffering 
prescribed  to  Union  prisoners;  and  though  the  full  extent 
will  ever  remain  an  unwritten  chapter  of  the  war,  I am 
pleased  to  know  that  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Un- 
published History  has  heard  what  remarks  I myself  have 
made.” 


CAMP-FIRE  X. 


WAR  ON  THE  WATER DARING  DEEDS — HOW  MANY  REGI- 
MENTS EACH  MAN  CAPTURED REMARKABLE  ESCAPES 

THE  BIGGEST  LIAR  IN  THE  WAR. 

ILL  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished 
History  be  pleased  to  hear  of  a romance  on  a river  ?” 
inquired  Mr.  L.  D.  Simonds,  late  acting  master, 
mate  of  the  United  States  Steamer  General  Thomas . 

“ No!  ” said  the  temperate  S.  P.  U.  H.  “ Water  is  for- 
eign to  our  nature.  Away  back  in  the  reign  of  Abraham  I, 
sixteenth  adviser-general  to  Uncle  Sam,  when  we  were  but  a 
few  years  old,  our  mother  was  accustomed  to  wash  our 
fevered  cheeks  with  the  hated  fluid.  Thence  to  now  be  it 
known  that  eternal  total  abstinence  is  sworn.  Never  mention 
that  name  to  us  again.” 

But  for  the  benefit  of  posterity,  which  argument  always 
hits  a weak  side  of  the  S.  P.  U.  H.,  the  Society  was  per- 
suaded to  listen,  and  Mr.  Simonds  proceeded: 

“ When  General  Hood,  on  his  march  to  Nashville,  Tenn., 
halted  his  command  at  Decatur,  Ala.,  he  threw  out  his  skir- 
mishers, and  placed  his  artillery  in  position  on  the  river  bank, 
expecting  to  capture  the  pontoon  bridge,  cross  over  his  army, 
march  on  to  Nashville,  and  then  make  a bold  strike  to  save 
the  Confederacy.  But  the  sequel  proved  that  he  counted 
without  his  host. 

“ The  U.  S.  Steamer  General  Thomas  at  this  time  was 
stationed  at  Decatur,  with  orders  to  patrol  the  river  to  a point 
about  thirty  miles  above  Decatur,  reserving  what  coal  we  had 

x3‘ 


132 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


to  bank  the  fires,  and  to  confiscate  rails  along  the  river  for 
fuel  while  under  way,  as  the  river  at  that  time  was  so  low 
that  we  could  not  get  to  Bridgeport  to  lay  in  a supply  of  coal. 

“At  the  time  mentioned,  the  General  Thomas  was  some 
twelve  or  fifteen  miles  above  Decatur.  Captain  Morton  was 
pacing  the  hurricane  deck,  enjoying  a good  smoke  from  his 
meerschaum  pipe,  when  all  of  a sudden  he  stopped,  turned 
around,  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  and  listened  for  several 
seconds.  Then  he  resumed  his  pacing,  but  presently  halted 
again  in  his  reverie — listened,  turned,  and  called  out  to  Mr. 
Johnson,  the  pilot: 

“ ‘ Did  you  hear  anything,  sir?  ’ 

“ Mr,  Johnson  replied  that  he  did  not.  The  captain  once 
more  resumed  his  pacing  the  deck.  Some  seconds  elapsed, 
when  the  captain  suddenly  stopped  again. 

“ c There,  sir!  ’ said  he,  4 did  you  not  hear  that?’ 

“‘Well,  captain,  I believe  I did  hear  something  that 
sounded  like  a cannon  shot.’ 

“ Once  .more  the  same  distant  rumbling  sound  echoed  up 
and  down  the  valley.  There  was  no  mistaking  it — it  was  a 
sound  that  had  become  familiar  to  every  veteran  of  the  war, 
the  noise  of  artillery.  Immediately  the  orders  were  given  to 
round  to  and  steam  down  the  river.  The  engines  were  re- 
versed, and  down  the  river  we  went.  Hammocks  were  taken 
out  of  the  nettings  and  stowed  around  the  boilers,  and  every 
precaution  was  taken  to  prevent  any  disaster  to  the  boat. 
The  men  were  beat  to  quarters,  the  guns  run  in,  and  port 
holes  closed.  We  soon  neared  a small  creek  running  into  the 
Tennessee,  about  five  miles  above  Decatur.  We  landed,  and 
all  hands  were  piped  ashore  to  rail  up.  Some  two  hours 
were  thus  consumed. 

“ Opposite  to  us  and  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  lay  an 
army  gunboat  at  anchor,  manned  by  an  Indiana  battery, 
which  was  commanded  by  Captain  Naylor.  The  captain 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


*33 


had  gone  to  Decatur,  to  confer  with  General  Granger,  and 
left  the  boat  in  charge  of  the  first  lieutenant,  with  only  twen- 
ty-three pounds  of  steam — almost  in  sight  of,  and  in  range  of 
the  rebel  batteries.  All  hands  were  aboard,  lines  were  cast 
off,  the  gang-plank  hauled  in,  and  orders  given  to  back  out, 
and  steam  down  the  river  to  the  scene  of  action,  when  a cloud 
of  dust  was  seen  in  the  distance.  As  it  came  nearer,  the  clat- 
ter of  horses’  feet  were  heard.  A little  nearer,  a squad  of 
cavalry  were  seen.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  approached,  un- 
til a bend  in  the  road  hid  the  horsemen  from  view.  Suddenly 
an  officer  dashed  down  to  the  river  side,  who  proved  to  be 
Captain  Naylor,  of  the  army  gunboat,  returning  from  De- 
catur, with  an  escort  of  cavalry.  The  cutter  of  the  General 
Thomas  was  called  away  to  bring  the  captain  on  board.  It 
came  alongside,  and  Captain  Naylor  was  met  at  the  gang- 
way by  the  captain,  boatswain,  and  two  other  men. 

“ By  the  way,  Captain  Morton  was  what  was  termed  an 
old  salter.  As  brave  a man  as  ever  trod  a deck,  and  a strict 
disciplinarian,  though  he  was  kind  and  courteous  to  the  officers 
and  men  under  him;  but  like  other  men,  he  had  his  faults, 
the  principal  one  of  which  was  profanity. 

“c  Well,  Captain  Morton,’  said  Captain  Naylor,  as  he  en- 
tered the  gangway,  c Hood  has  twenty-three  pieces  of  artil- 
lery stationed  on  the  river  bank  to  prevent  us  from  coming 
down  to  help  General  Granger.’ 

“4I  don’t  care  a if  they  have  200  pieces,’  returned 

Morton. 

“ c Well,  they’ll  blow  us  clear  out  of  the  water  if  we  un- 
dertake to  run  by — that’s  all  there  is  of  that,’  replied  Captain 
Naylor. 

“ c I don’t  give  a ; I might  as  well  be  blown  out  of 

the  water  here  as  any  other  place,  and  by I am  goin’ 

down  to  help  that  fort  out,  if  I get  blowed  to  h — 1.  You  can 
follow  me  or  stay  where  you  are.’ 


*34 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


Well,  captain,  wherever  you  go,  you  can  depend  upon 
my  following,  let  the  consequences  be  what  they  may,’  said 
Captain  Naylor,  resigned  to  his  fate. 

“ ‘All  right — get  up  steam  and  follow  me.  Signal,  when 
you  have  steam  enough.’ 

“ Captain  Naylor  then  stepped  into  his  own  cutter,  which 
by  this  time  had  come  alongside,  and  was  rowed  to  his  own 
boat.  In  about  fifteen  minutes  afterward,  he  signaled  the 
General  Thomas , ‘All  ready!’  and  we  rounded  to  and  sped 
on  our  way  down  the  river. 

“ The  first  intimation  we  had  of  the  presence  of  the 
enemy,  was  about  one  mile  below  the  mouth  of  the  creek, 
when  a shot  from  the  gun  of  a sharpshooter  struck  the  case- 
mate, just  above  the  port-hole  abaft  the  larboard  wheel- 
house,  which  instantly  caused  me  to  take  my  head  out  of  the 
way.  Immediately  after  came  several  shots  from  the  same 
direction,  and  from  equally  as  good  marksmen.  Orders  came 
from  the  pilot-house  through  the  trumpet,  to  shift  the  star- 
board guns  to  the  larboard  side,  and  prepare  for  action.  This 
was  done  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  a shot  from  one  of 
our  bow  guns  went  crashing,  tearing,  and  plowing  its  way 
through  the  timber,  on  and  on,  until  it  exploded  in  the  midst 
of  Stuart’s  cavalry,  which  was  massed  about  three-quarters  of 
a mile  back  from  the.  river,  and  caused  considerable  commo- 
tion in  their  ranks.  Another,  and  another  followed  its  prede- 
cessor, when  presently  the  rebel  batteries  opened  fire,  making 
it  lively  for  us  the  rest  of  our  way.  Things  began  to  be 
a little  dangerous.  A shot  came  plowing  its  way  abaft 
the  larboard  wheel-house,  carrying  with  it  a piece  of  the 
inner  casemate,  striking  one  of  the  men  at  the  gun  on  the 
head,  and  knocking  him  senseless.  The  same  shot  struck  a 
stanchion,  just  forward  of  the  magazine  hatchway,  knocking 
the  captain’s  cook  over,  and  maiming  him  for  life,  then  passed 
out  through  the  starboard  wheel-house.  Another  came 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


*35 


through  the  hull  of  the  boat,  about  two  feet  forward  of  the 
magazine;  another  still  further  forward,  two  inches  above 
the  water  line ; another  passed  through  the  upper  and  after  part 
of  the  larboard  wheel-house,  thence  through  the  pilot’s  state- 
room, carrying  with  it  one-half  of  the  pilot’s  dress  coat-tail,  and 
came  out  through  the  second  assistant  engineer’s  room,  taking 
with  it  a feather  pillow;  another  found  its  way  through,  and 
exploded  in  our  pantry,  breaking  every  dish  we  had,  scatter- 
ing the  beans,  flour,  and  dishes  in  all  directions.  At  this  time 
the  captain’s  steward  was  passing  through  the  wood-rootn  on 
his  way  to  the  captain’s  cabin,  and  a piece  of  the  shell  struck 
him  on  the  back,  tearing  a fearful  gash.  He  afterward  died 
in  hospital. 

M About  two  miles  above  Decatur  there  is  a bend  in  the 
river,  and  as  our  boat  came  into  view,  both  sides  ceased  fight- 
ing, to  witness  a beautiful  river  sight,  for  it  was  supposed  that 
our  boat  was  on  fire,  as  nothing  could  be  seen  of  it,  save  one 
massive  sheet  of  flame  and  smoke — so  rapid  was  the  firing. 
Had  we  hugged  the  north  shore  as  was  supposed  by  the 
Johnnies,  the  probabilities  are  that  there  would  have  been  but 
few  of  us  left.  Instead  of  this,  the  captain  hugged  the  south 
shore,  right  under  the  very  muzzle  of  the  enemy’s  guns, 
which  saved  us.  As  we  passed  the  batteries  and  came  op- 
posite the  fort,  we  rounded  to,  and  gave  them  a parting  sa- 
lute with  our  two  bow  guns,  and  such  a cheer  as  rent  the  air 
from  our  boys  in  the  fort,  only  those  who  heard  it  know. 

“ Hostilities  ceased,  and  the  enemy  withdrew,  leaving  us 
in  our  glory.  That  night  they  moved  farther  down  the 
river,  where  they  succeeded  in  making  a crossing,  and 
marched  on  to  Nashville. 

“ I must  not  forget  Captain  Naylor  and  the  brave  boys 
under  his  command,  who  so  gallantly  followed  us  in  running 
the  gauntlet.  No  one  but  a brave  man  would  have  followed 
us,  knowing  the  position  and  strength  of  the  enemy,  as  he 


I36  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR 

did ; and,  above  all,  his  boat  was  not  even  protected  by  a case- 
mate. He  fared,  however,  even  better  than  we  did,  for  he 
lost  only  one  man,  whose  head  was  taken  off  by  a shot,  and 
rolled  out  into  the  river;  and,  I believe,  one  or  two  slightly 
wounded. 

“ The  following  day  Captain  Naylor,  our  executive  offi- 
cer, second  assistant  engineer,  another  officer,  and  myself 
went  ashore,  and  procuring  a horse  each  from  the  quarter- 
master, rode  over  the  field  of  action.  As  we  neared  the  river 
bank,  we  could  see  coat  sleeves  torn  to  shreds,  a man’s 
arm  here,  a leg  there,  and  pieces  of  ammunition  chests  and 
caisson  wheels  scattered  in  all  directions.  All  over  the  field 
could  be  seen  what  death  and  destruction  we  had  dealt  out  to 
the  enemy.  In  our  ride  over  the  field,  we  came  to  a planter’s 
house,  dismounted  and  went  in,  and  from  the  planter’s  wife 
we  learned  that  General  Stuart  had  massed  his  cavalry  on 
their  plantation.  When  our  first  shot  was  fired,  it  came  tear- 
ing its  way  through  the  woods,  exploded  in  their  midst,  killed 
several,  and  wounded  quite  a number  of  others.  One  shot 
from  our  guns  blew  up  a caisson  and  killed  fifty  men. 
Another  dismounted  one  of  their  guns,  and  tore  the  gun 
carriage  to  pieces. 

“ The  day  following,  the  troops  commenced  to  evacuate 
Decatur,  and  fall  back  toward  Nashville.  The  orders  from 
General  Granger  were  to  destroy  the  pontoons  after  the 
troops  had  all  passed  over,  which  destruction  was  placed 
under  my  charge.  Through  much  tribulation,  and  receiving 
a good  many  shots  from  the  rebel  sharpshooters,  I succeeded, 
with  the  assistance  of  some  of  the  troops,  in  accomplishing 
this,  and  we  went  on  down  the  river.” 

“ Speaking  of  throwing  shells  into  the  woods,”  said  Mr. 
C.  E.  Harden,  of  Co.  F,  26th  Illinois,  “ reminds  me  of  a 
peculiar  little  anecdote: 

u On  the  day  previous  to  the  evacuation  of  Charleston, 


PONTOON  BRIDGE. 


138  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

S.  C.,  a shot  was  fired  from  one  of  the  Island  batteries  (I 
think  Morris  Island),  marked  with  chalk  or  paint, 4 Good  for 
James  Street ,’  and  strange  as  it  may  appear,  it  dropped  in 
James  Street,  and  was  pointed  out  to  me  by  an  old  citizen, 
in  the  last  of  February,  1864,  who  remarked  that  no  other 
shot  had  come  near  as  far,  and  he  knew  it  was  a bad  omen, 
for  that  night  the  city  was  evacuated.  I would  like  for  the 
comrade  who  fired  that  shot  to  know  that  it  fulfilled  its 
mission.” 

In  behalf  of  posterity,  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  took  due  note  of 
this. 

44  That  reminds  me  of  a strange  occurrence,”  said  the 
colonel  of  the  40th  Ohio,  44  about  the  most  curious  incident 
that  I met  with  during  the  war. 

44  In  February,  1864,  our  brigade  was  encamped  at  Blue 
Springs,  Tenn.  Sherman,  who  was  with  his  forces  then 
at  or  near  Vicksburg,  intended  to  make  an  advance  upon 
the  rebels  at  Jackson,  Miss.  In  order  that  Joe  Johnston 
should  not  go  to  the  relief  of  the  Jackson  forces,  we,  with 
the  other  troops,  were  ordered  to  make  a demonstration  in 
his  front,  and  for  that  purpose  moved  down  toward  Dalton, 
Ga.,  before  and  around  which  place  his  troops  were  located. 
It  was  not  the  design,  apparently,  to  do  much  fighting,  but 
to  make  a pretence  of  it,  and  to  engage  his  troops  so  com- 
pletely that  they  could  not  be  withdrawn.  We  marched  and 
counter-marched,  and  fired  our  guns,  and  set  fire  to  the  leaves 
and  woods,  and  made  the  rebels  believe  we  were  going  to 
devour  them  bodily.  After  three  or  four  days  of  this  kind 
of  manoeuvering,  our  object  was  accomplished,  and  we  with- 
drew and  went  back  to  camp. 

44  The  incident  I refer  to  occurred  just  as  we  were  with- 
drawing our  skirmish  line.  I went  along  the  skirmish  line 
of  our  brigade,  to  withdraw  the  men  as  quietly  as  possible. 
The  line  was  stretched  along  the  north  side  of  a gorge,  or 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  13c 

deep  ravine,  which  was  some  two  hundred  yards  wide.  The 
rebel  skirmish  line  was  posted  along  the  south  side  of  thi 
ravine,  so  that  between  the  two  lines  there  was  clear  space, 
and  the  men  on  either  side  were  plainly  discernible  to  each 
other,  when  they  exposed  themselves  by  leaving  their  cover. 

“ As  I withdrew  man  after  man,  I finally  came  to  a mem- 
ber of  Company  C,  who  was  standing  behind  a tree,  and  who, 
at  the  instant  I stepped  up  to  him,  had  just  fired,  and  was  tak- 
ing his  gun  down.  He  looked  curiously  at  the  muzzle  of 
it,  and  I asked  him  what  was  the  matter,  when  he  pointed 
to  the  gun,  and  said : 

“‘Look  there!  That  rebel’s  bullet  went  square  into  that 
barrel ! ’ 

“ And  sure  enough,  the  rebel  ball  had  gone  directly  into 
the  barrel,  just  as  he  had  fired.  It  met  his  own  ball  about 
five  inches  from  the  muzzle,  and  the  concussion  of  the  two 
burst  the  barrel,  making  an  opening  some  three  inches  long, 
and  about  half  an  inch  wide.  The  muzzle  of  the  gun  was 
unbroken  and  not  abraded.  Both  the  balls  were  flattened 
and  welded  together.  The  rebel  ball,  just  as  the  Company  C 
man  fired,  had  gone  straight  into  his  gun  barrel,  and  met  his 
own  ball,  which  was  on  its  way  to  pay  its  respects  to  the  fel- 
low across  the  ravine.  The  Company  C man  said  that  he 
and  that  Johnny  had  been  firing  at  each  other  for  some  time. 

“ If  our  man  had  held  his  gun  one  thirty-second  part  of 
an  inch  up  or  down,  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  from  the 
position  in  which  he  did  hold  it,  the  rebel  ball  would  have 
crashed  into  his  brain,  instead  of  going  into  the  barrel  of  his 
gun,  and  I would  have  found  a corpse  at  that  tree,  instead  of 
a man  wondering  at  the  incident  that  had  occurred.” 

Doctor  Watson,  of  Company  B,  53d  Illinois,  then  related 
this  remarkable  experience,  which  shows  how  many  regi- 
ments one  man  can  sometimes  capture: 

“On  the  24th  of  February,  1864,  sixteen  men  and  myseif 


140 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


were  detailed  to  go  out  foraging  to  procure  meat,  meal  and 
flour  for  our  regiment.  At  this  time,  we  had  a large  foraging 
party  detailed  from  each  regiment  in  the  corps,  as  we  had 
started  from  the  rear  of  Vicksburg  for  Meridian,  Miss.,  with 
quarter  rations  for  ten  days,  and  had  been  out  some  twenty- 
five  days;  so  that  we  had  to  subsist  off*  the  country.  Subse- 
quently we  were  detailed  from  the  foraging  party  to  act  as 
alarm  guard,  with  orders  to  join  the  main  squad  at  Willis’ 
plantation,  near  Katley’s  Ferry,  on  Pearl  River. 

“At  4 o’clcock  in  the  afternoon,  after  staying  on  post, 
and  running  around  over  the  surrounding  country  all  day,  we 
started  to  join  the  main  squad  at  the  appointed  rendezvous. 
On  coming  out  from  some  timber  to  the  main  Canton  road, — 
we  were  twelve  miles  from  Canton,  Miss., — and  looking  up 
the  road  toward  Willis’  place,  we  saw  a body  of  men.  We 
supposed,  of  course,  that  they  were  our  own  squad,  when 
behold!  they  ran  up  their  colors  (detailed  foraging  parties 
never  carry  colors),  and  so  we  saw  at  once  that  we  were 
facing  the  Johnnies,  the  first  we  had  seen  on  our  trip,  and 
now  were  nearly  back  to  Vicksburg,  after  going  to  Meridian, 
Miss.,  and  accomplishing  that  for  which  we  went, — tearing 
up  railroads.  It  seemed  to  me,  as  I sat  on  my  horse  there, 
and  looked  at  those  Johnnies,  as  if  there  were  a whole  divi- 
sion of  them. 

“ While  we  remained  in  the  timber,  looking  at  the  John- 
nies and  debating  what  to  do,  another  regiment  went  by  us 
on  the  road,  not  over  twenty  rods  from  where  we  were.  We 
concluded  that  the  regiment  that  had  passed  us  were  our  own 
men,  and  decided  to  give  the  enemy  the  best  we  had,  and 
then  vamoose;  so  we  rode  up  to  the  fence  and  fired  all  at  once. 
I tell  you  we  shook  them  up  terribly. 

“We  kept  up  a lively  fire  for  a time,  and  then  became 
bold.  With  a dash  we  rode  up  to  the  Johnnies, — about  four 
or  five  regiments, — and  demanded  their  surrender,  telling 


CAMP-FIItE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  I4I 

them  that  our  troops  were  just  coming  out  of  the  woods. 
One  of  our  boys,  Dan  Buckley,  of  the  14th  Iowa,  was  espe- 
cially bold.  Riding  up  to  an  Alabama  colonel,  he  placed  a 
revolver  to  the  colonel’s  head,  and  said : 

44  4 Surrender,  you  rascal!  ’ 

44  Of  course  the  colonel  accepted  the  inevitable  and  sur- 
rendered. We  were  just  thinking  what  we  would  do  with 
our  prey  until  we  could  get  assistance, — sixteen  men  against 
6,000, — when  to  our  mortification  the  supposed  Federal 
troops  which  passed  us  in  the  woods  came  up,  proving  to  be 
the  56th  Alabama  Johnnies. 

44  4 Now,  then,’  said  our  Alabama  colonel,  whom  we  had 
just  taken  prisoner,  4 who  has  the  trump  card?  No  more  of 
your  Yankee  tomfoolery, — give  us  your  guns.’ 

44 4 1 — I — beg  your  pardon,  colonel,’  said  Buckley. 

44 4 Not  much;  there’s  no  pardon  for  audacity  of  your 
kind,’  returned  the  colonel.  4 1 guess  you’re  destined  for 
Andersonville,  where,  sure  enough,  we  did  go,  and  thence  to 
Florence,  where  we  remained  over  nine  months.” 

44  The  bursting  of  that  gun,  in  the  incident  previous  to  the 
last,”  said  Mr.  H.  H.  Armstead,  44  has  called  up  an  incident 
at  the  battle  of  Nashville,  where  we  dispersed  Hood’s  army. 

44  The  Johnnies  had  been  throwing  shells  into  our  vicinity, 
and  it  began  to  be  somewhat  dangerous  where  I was.  The 
boys  had  been  very  fortunate  in  dodging  shells,  but  finally  one 
of  the  cavalrymen  near  us, — his  name  was  J.  M.  A. — became 
separated  from  his  company,  and  his  horse  began  to  plunge 
and  rear.  The  horse  had  just  avoided  two  or  three  shells, 
but  finally  he  turned  his  head  to  the  left  and  one  struck 
him  in  the  shoulder,  plowing  clear  through  him,  and  taking 
him  with  great  force  from  under  the  rider,  who  was  left 
uninjured,  except  that  his  clothes  were  torn,  and  he  received 
a few  slight  bruises  from  the  saddle,  as  it  passed  from  under 
him.” 


142 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“Hold  on,  boys!  give  us  a rest  on  the  stories.  I feel  like 
singing.  All  pitch  in:”  


n 

r r ? m 

r~2 

4 — :|  ' 

— 1 

If>. .1  1 

v u £ 

-4.--xV—V 

ill 

I feel  like,  I feel  like,  I feel ; I feel  like,  I feel  like,  I feel. 


(Sing  that  1,000  times  for  the  first  verse.  Sing  it  2,000  times  for  the  second 
verse,  and  so  on.  When  you  have  sung  a hundred  verses,  stop  and  rest  before 
you  start  on  the  101st  verse.) 

“What  kind  of  a song  is  that?  you  say.  Why!  it's  a 
condensed  song  — compressed  — a good  deal  in  it  — like  the 
desiccated  vegetables.” 

“ Here  is  something  that  we  used  to  eat  during  the  war,” 
said  a veteran,  and  he  held  up  a piece  of  something  that  ap- 
peared precisely  like  a plug  of  “navy  tobacco”  an  inch  or 
more  thick,  and  about  fourteen  inches  square. 

44  It  looks  (as  has  just  been  observed)  like  a huge  piece 
of  tobacco,  and  oftentimes  the  boys  would  have  readily 
traded  pieces  of  it  for  half  its  weight  in  that  luxury.  The 
designation  donated  to  it  by  the  VV ar  Department  was  4 dessi- 
cated  vegetables;’  but  the  boys  changed  it  to  4 desecrated,’ 
which  we  thought  more  appropriate,  for  soldiers  delight  to 
call  things  by  their  right  names.  The  statement  may  seem 
strange,  but  we  actually  made  soup  of  the  stuff  of  which  I hold 
a sample  in  my  hand,  even  though  people  not  acquainted 
with  the  substance  be  unable  to  guess  its  use  from  appearance. 
Yes,  my  dear  comrades,  you  all  remember  how  many  a 
mess  we’ve  had  from  this  material.  I remember  one  inci- 
dent connected  with  its  introduction  among  us/* 

The  speaker  here  tossed  the  piece  of  pressed  vegetables 
to  the  S.  P.  U.  H.,  and  after  a casual  scrutiny  it  was  placed 
under  close  scientific  analysis,  and  was  found  to  contain  the 
following  ingredients: 

1.  Onions,  with  husks  on. 

2.  Potatoes,  prepared  to  be  cooked  in  three  styles. 

Corn,  with  no  particular  pains  taken  to  omit  the  cobs. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


143 


4.  Beans,  strung,  unstrung,  Boston,  shelled,  unshelled, 
and  otherwise. 

5.  Cabbages,  leaves,  head,  stalk  and  roots. 

6.  Tomatoes,  dried,  with  an  occasional  vine  hung  on; 
though  the  latter  was  not  necessary,  and  hence  not  always 
appended.  This  last  observation  will  also  apply  to  the  roots 
of  cabbages  and  husks  of  onions. 

7.  Sweet  potatoes,  occasionally  a small  piece,  being  very 
scarce  and  expensive.  The  vines  were  unattached  to  this 
ingredient. 

8.  Parsnips,  the  previous  year’s  growth,  which  were 
strictly  fibrous,  and  unable  to  be  masticated. 

9.  Pumpkins,  the  cow  variety. 

10.  Lettuce,  radishes,  parsley,  celery,  garlic,  squash, 
horseradish,  carrots,  asparagus,  mustard,  and  all  other  vege- 
tables and  semi-vegetables  not  included  in  the  foregoing  list. 
If  anything  in  the  vegetable  line  was  not  represented  in  each 
piece,  it  was  not  the  fault  of  the  manufacturers.  It  is  said  to 
be  recorded  that  at  one  time  a purse  was  made  up  among  the 
boys,  to  be  given  to  one  who  could  name  something  which 
could  not  be  found  in  these  pieces  of  “ desecrated  vegetables.” 
After  numerous  guesses  the  task  was  given  up,  and  the  purse 
had  to  be  distributed  among  the  original  donors. 

The  ingredients  were  first  dried  separately,  then  pressed 
and  dried  together,  then  compressed  and  redried,  until  they 
occupied  the  smallest  space  possible.  In  their  primary  condi- 
tion, fresh  from  the  vines,  three  or  four  of  these  chunks  of 
vegetables,  14x14x1^  inches,  would  make  nearly  a wagon 
load  of  produce.  After  compressing  and  drying  they  could 
almost  be  put  into  a peck  measure.  They  were  mixed  to- 
gether without  much  regard  for  quality  or  proportion,  then 
cut  into  pieces  of  regular  size,  as  before  stated. 

But  after  all  the  hard  things  that  were  said  about  K dessi- 
cafced  vegetables,5’  they  proved  a boon  to  the  army,  though 


144 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


they  did  not  appear  as  a part  of  the  regular  rations  until  1864. 
When  they  were  issued,  they  supplied  a real  meal,  since  fresh 
vegetables  could  not  be  obtained  under  any  circumstances 
during  the  winter  months.  By  compressing  the  vegetables 
they  could  be  shipped  and  handled  with  more  facility,  but  a 
single  incident  will  illustrate  how  some  of  the  cooks  were  for- 
getful of  the  swelling  principle  in  such  vegetables  as  beans, 
rice,  etc. 

“ When  4 dessicated  vegetables’  were  first  issued  to  us,  I 
remember,”  continued! the  speaker,  “ one  cake  was  dealt  out 
to  each  company  as  vegetable  rations  for  three  days.  This 
preparation  at  first  sight  did  not  look  very  palatable,  and 
when  it  was  passed  to  the  respective  messes  (numbering 
six  to  eight  in  each  mess)  the  boys  respectively  and  respect- 
fully refused  to  eat  any  of  this  universal  succotash,  even  il 
the  cooks  were  willing  to  serve  it. 

“ On  the  other  hand,  the  cooks  for  each  mess  refused  to 
use  it,  and  so  the  whole  cake  went  the  rounds  without  being 
broken,  until  it  came  at  last,  to  our  mess,  which  numbered  six 
of  as  venturesome  fellows  as  any  company  in  the  regiment 
could  boast.  Our  cook,  a fellow  by  the  name  of  Leander 
Turner,  also  refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  new 
style  of  vegetable,  since  all  the  boys  had  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that,  if  they  would  give  it  a positive  letting  alone,  the 
quartermaster  would  not  issue  it  any  more. 

“ But  we  told  our  cook  to  fix  it  up,  whatever  the  results  • 
we  wanted  to  see  what  it  would  look  like.  Accordingly  he 
gratified  us.  He  took  the  regular  ten-gallon  camp  kettle, 
nearly  filled  it  with  water,  saying  as  he  did  so: 

“4  Well,  let’s  try  some  soup  from  the  fodder,’  and  he  put 
the  whole  cake  into  the  kettle  of  boiling  water.  Ere  long 
the  beans  began  to  swell,  the  rice  grains  to  grow  larger,  the 
dried  corn  extended  its  dimensions,  and  the  other  vegetables 
began  to  resume  something  of  their  original  proportions;  it  is 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


145 


to  be  held  in  mind  that  this  was  only  the  beginnings  though 
the  196  cubic  inches  of  dried  and  pressed  vegetables  even  at 
this  time  had  absorbed  most  of  the  water,  and  were  creeping 
over  the  sides  of  the  kettle,  having  already  pushed  out  into 
the  fire  a huge  piece  of  meat,  which  had  been  put  into  the 
kettle  before  the  vegetables  had  been  put  in. 

444  What  in  thunder  ’ll  I do  with  all  this  darn  truck?’ 
asked  the  cook,  as  the  vegetables  kept  on  coming  out  of  the 
top  of  the  ten-gallon  kettle,  and  gave  unmistakable  evidence 
that  they  were  burning  in  the  bottom. 

44  4 Jim,  bring  anuther  kittle,’  he  said,  speaking  to  the 
waiter  boy. 

44  The  boy  brought  another  kettle,  which  was  partly  filled 
with  water,  and  enough  vegetables  were  taken  from  the  first 
kettle  and  placed  in  it  until  the  second  kettle,  too,  was  full. 
Then  more  water  was  put  into  the  first  kettle.  But  the  cook 
had  again  miscalculated,  for  all  of  the  water  poured  in  the 
first  time  had  been  absorbed  by  less  than  half  of  the  dried 
vegetables,  so  that  there  was  almost  as  much  cause  for  swell- 
ing the  second  time  as  the  first.  Add  to  this  the  fact  that  the 
kettle  was  already  dry  and  almost  red-hot  in  the  bottom^ 
so  that  as  soon  as  possible  water  was  poured  in  again,  and 
when  it  had  time  to  penetrate  to  the  bottom,  sufficient 
steam  was  immediately  generated  to  bring  about  only  one 
result — a terrific  explosion,  sufficiently  loud  to  scare  the  cook 
near  unto  death,  and  cause  most  of  those  who  heard  it  to 
start  for  their  arms,  while  the  manner  in  which  it  fared  with 
the  vegetables  in  the  kettle  can  be  summed  up  in  a few 
words:  The  cook  had  drawn,  in  that  one  small  piece  of 

4 desecrated  vegetables,5  sufficient  rations  for  one  hundred 
men,  three  days  for  dinner,  or  in  other  words,  three  hundred 
meals;  and  when  it  came  to  putting  the  entire  cake  though 
small,  into  a ten-gallon  kettle,  with  sufficient  water  to  swell 
the  ingredients  into  eatable  shape,  this  was  one  of  the  physi- 


146 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 


cal  impossibilities ; so  that  at  the  time  the  explosion  occurred, 
the  vegetables  had  again  risen  to  the  top  of  the  kettle,  and 
consequently  were  scattered  in  the  air,  most  of  them,  how- 
ever, falling  back  into  the  kettle,  and  like  a slumbering  vol- 
cano, were  soon  ready  for  another  explosion, 

64  But  the  cook  rallied  his  courage,  made  for  the  kettle, 
and  in  his  strength  of  madness,  kicked  the  thing  several 
feet  from  the  fire,  with  the  angry  expression: 

‘Darn  that  Yankee  stuff,  anyhow;  drat  my  gizzard  if 
you’ll  get  me  to  cook  any  more  of  it.  I’ve  cooked  lots  o’ 
vegetables  in  my  time,  but  I’ll  be  dad  burned  if  I ever  saw 
anything  that  would  swell  twic’t  and  then  bust,’  which  ended 
the  scene, 

“We  did  not  eat  any  from  that  cooking,  but  when  the 
boys  became  accustomed  to  c dessicated  vegetables  ’ we  often 
had  a fine  pan  of  soup  from  a small  piece  of  the  preparation, 
which  doubt,  helped  to  keep  away  scurvy.” 


A'HJSi  BIGGEST  j.\[  THE  WAR  iiHOX  OUT  OB'  A CAN  NOT  J- 


CAMP-FIRE  XI. 


SUTLERS QUARTERMASTERS — -MULES HOW  RICH  A SOL- 
DIER MUST  BE  TO  BUY  ANYTHING  FROM  A SUTLER 

THE  PROFITS  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  APPOINTMENT  OF 

QUARTERMASTER  ON  A REGULAR  SALARY EULOGY 

ON  THE  SUTLER  AND  THE  ARMY  MULE. 


6 N this  commercial  age  handsome  returns  are  often  real- 
ized from  occupations  where  there  has  been  very  moder- 
^ ate  investment,  and  apparently  very  little  business  trans- 
acted. There  are  also  other  instances  in  which  a great 
amount  of  business  is  done  on  a regular  salary,  without  any 
investment;  but  still  these  operatives  become  suddenly  pros- 
perous. And  this  latter  condition  of  things  has  existed  in 
other  periods  than  the  present.  Mail  routes  have  not  been 
the  only  source  of  gain  in  the  history  of  the  United  States 
patronage.  Even  the  patriotism  of  twenty  years  ago  was 
not  unmixed  w ith  that  enemy  of  human  happiness — avarice. 

The  gallantry  of  the  patriotic  quartermasters  who  so  bravely 
volunteered  to  live  for  their  country  and  undergo  all  the  priva- 
tions necessitated  by  a full  supply  train,  will  ever  be  treasured 
in  memory.  There  were  also  other  patriots  who,  in  the 
hour  of  the  country’s  need,  kindly  consented  to  take  govern- 
ment contracts  for  furnishing  coffee  and  other  articles  of  food. 
But  alas!  some  accident  must  have  occurred,  especially  to  the 
coffee.  While  that  was  being  ground,  before  the  govern- 
ment took  it  in  charge,  it  is  probable  that  the  section  of  floor 
in  the  room  just  above  the  hopper  suddenly  gave  way  and  let 
down  into  the  grinder  a quantity  of  peas  and  chicory,  which 

l\7 


148  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR* 

incidentally  had  been  stored  above  it.  Owing  to  the  great 
demand  for  ground  coffee  there  could  be  no  time  lost  in  stop- 
ping the  mills  to  take  out  the  peas  and  chicory.  No  one 
was  to  blame.  The  millers  could  not  stop  to  repair  the  loss 
from  the  accident;  the  proprietors,  who  held  the  contracts, 
were  too  busy  with  something  else — buying  cotton  in  the 
South,  and  smuggling  it  through,  purchasing  and  stocking 
Western  farms  at  a million  dollars  apiece,  and  establishing 
extensive  seed  houses  in  the  East.  Truly  they  were  men  of 
great  minds,  and  could  not  attend  to  details. 

But  it  is  the  devotion  of  the  quartermasters  which  is 
now  to  be  lamented.  Could  the  eloquent  army  mule  get  up 
from  his  grave  and  give  forth  his  reminiscence,  how  many 
times  would  he  say  that  he  had  been  driven  off,  recaptured, 
and  sold  again  to  the  government?  Could  each  extra  ration 
due  the  soldier  speak,  how  far  would  it  say  that  it  missed  its 
destination?  However,  the  quartermasters  were  not  respon- 
sible for  the  vagaries  of  the  rations  and  of  the  mules ; though 
in  this  connection  it  is  a little  difficult  to  see  just  why  these 
officers  were  so  prosperous  after  the  war,  when  the  majority 
of  them  were  nearly  penniless  before;  how  a man  with  a 
family,  in  moderate  circumstances,  could  accumulate  a compe- 
tence on  a salary  of  $124.00  per  month,*  paying  war  prices 
for  everything.  It  was  no  moral  wrong  to  be  a quarter* 
master,  but  the  source  of  profit  in  the  business  was  never  ac- 
counted for  until  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpub- 
lished History  learned  the  following  from  one  of  them. 

One  evening  after  the  adjournment  of  a camp-fire,  the  so- 
ciety was  invited  to  become  the  guests  of  a qaurtermaster. 
Of  course  they  accepted  such  a pleasure.  From  the  camp- 
fire they  were  conveyed  in  an  easy  carriage  to  a fine  portion 

♦Besides  a liberal  allowance  of  rations,  etc.  For  pay-roll,  tiniforms,  discipline, 
etc.,  and  much  interesting-  information  concerning-  armies,  see  Revised  Regulations  of 
the  United  States  Army,  to  be  found  in  any  well-appointed  public  library. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  I49 

of  a thriving  city.  They  were  driven  up  to  a large  brown- 
stone  front  on  the  south  side  of  the  street,  surrounded  by  a 
neat  and  spacious  lawn,  with  an  aristocratic  air  about  the 
whole  home.  As  the  society  advanced  up  the  fashionable 
stone  walk,  and  the  bright  moonlight  outlined  the  mansion 
and  its  surroundings,  and  they  beheld  the  sphinx-like  figures 
crouching  on  the  banister,  in  the  dim  gas-light  from  the  hall, 
they  almost  wished  they  had  been  quartermasters. 

In  the  morning  after  a rich  breakfast,  which  made  them 
feel  that  it  was  a decided  advantage  to  accept  invitations  like 
the  one  of  the  previous  evening,- — they  were  shown  about 
the  premises.  The  house  was  furnished  richly  within,  well- 
suiting its  outward  beauty ; and  when  the  society  congratu- 
lated the  quartermaster  on  his  comfortable  abode,  he  said : 

“ Come  into  my  cellar,”  which  was  accordingly  done,  be- 
cause the  historians  suspected  something. 

“ Here,”  said  the  quartermaster,  “ is  some  that  is  twenty 
years  old — -fine  old  Bourbon.  Smack  your  lips  on  that.” 

With  true  historical  skill,  after  a comparison  of  dates? 
which  was  not  uttered,  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  simply,  but  forcibly  re- 
plied : 

“ Well,  we  are  total  abstinence;  but  whenever  we  do  take 
anything,  it  is  invariably  twenty -year-old  Bourbon.” 

When  the  party  were  again  in  the  open  air,  the  society 
inquired  of  the  quartermaster  what  he  did  to  pass  away  his 
declining  days. 

“ Oh!”  he  laughed,  “I  ’tend  to  the  farm,  and  look  after 
my  place  here,  and  loan  a little  money  once  in  awhile.” 

If  the  vS.  P.  U.  IT.  had  been  a little  better  acquainted,  and 
could  have  given  security,  they  would  probably  have  asked 
the  good  quartermaster  to  loan  them  a little  “ for  a few 
days,”  as  they  were  no  richer  than  other  historians  and  penny- 
a-liners;  but  as  it  was,  they  concluded  to  keep  up  their  accus- 
tomed dignity,  and  only  interrogated: 


150  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

“How  did  you  get  your  start,  Mr.  Quartermaster?”  as 
they  felt  a sudden  desire  to  have  a similiar  experience. 

“Oh!  ” said  he,  “ I am  getting  old  now  (forty-eight  years) 
and  I have  been  a good  while  at  it — every  old  man  ought  to 
be  rich  in  this  country;  and  then  I have  a very  economical 
wife.” 

“Ah,  yes!”  said  the  S.  P.  U.  H.,  glad  to  note  the  solution 
of  quartermasters’  post-bellum  prosperity;  and  with  the  re- 
flection that  nearly  all  of  the  economical  women  in  the  coun- 
try must  have  married  quartermasters  or  government  con- 
tractors, the  society  took  its  leave. 

Curiously  enough,  the  subject  of  quartermasters  was 
brought  up  that  evening  at  the  camp-fire,  and  also  that  other 
similar  object  of  sympathy,  the  sutler,  who  was  the  only 
man  of  a regiment  permitted  to  buy  goods  from  the  outside 
world,  and  retail  them  to  the  soldiers  at  his  own  price.  He 
was  guaranteed  the  miscellaneous  and  exclusive  patronage  of 
from  six  hundred  to  a thousand  soldiers,  being  the  poor  store- 
keeper of  the  regiment,  and  deserves  much  pity  and  memorial. 

In  connection  with  the  subject,  Mr.  A.  Lammey,  of  Com- 
pany C,  2d  Chicago  Board  of  Trade  Regiment,  said: 

“ I was  on  detached  service  for  a time — in  the  secret  mili- 
tary police  force,  or  detective  service,  which  was  a part  of 
the  provost  marshal’s  department.  Our  work  was  confined 
to  cities,  and  we  were  for  sometime  in  the  city  of  Nashville. 
We  generally  knew  what  was  going  on  ‘behind  the  scenes,’ 
and  often  had  considerable  sport  seeking  out  offenders,  arrest- 
ing them,  and  putting  them  into  prison.  At  one  time  we 
caught  the  post  quartermaster,  Capt.  Charles  Irwin.  I do 
not  remember  who  was  the  special  plaintiff,  but  I know  that 
Irwin  was  sued  by  the  government  for  $2,000,000.  His  trial 
did  not  come  off  for  two  or  three  years,  and  I think  it  was 
compromised,  as  I never  heard  or  read  anything  of  it  after- 
ward, though  I watched  for  it. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  1 5 1 

“ But  that  was  not  what  I was  going  to  say.  We  had 
communication  with  the  quartermaster’s  department,  and  be- 
ing a branch  of  the  provost  guard,  we  sometimes  did  special 
duty,  adjusted  adverse  claims,  and  settled  disputes  by  arrest- 
ing suspicious  parties,  and  bringing  them  to  justice.  So  I came 
to  know  of  a case  where  a sutler  was  punished  for  the  exorbi- 
tant prices  he  charged. 

“ This  was  at  the  battle  of  Stone  River.  Lager  beer  had 
been  pretty  scarce  for  sometime,  and  the  sutler  had  not  been 
able  to  furnish  it.  Finally  he  succeeded  in  getting  twenty 
kegs,  and  began  to  retail  it  out  to  the  boys  at  ten  cents  a 
glass.  The  boys  were  all  thirsty  for  the  beverage,  and  the 
result  was  that  the  sutler  had  to  have  two  or  three  assistants. 
Half  the  beer  was  soon  gone,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  re- 
mainder would  not  last  long. 

“ To  save  the  beer  and  still  make  a good  profit,  the  sutler 
put  up  the  price  to  twenty  cents  a glass.  But  this  did  not 
seem  to  check  the  demand,  and  the  beer  flowed  as  fast  as 
ever.  Then  the  sutler  concluded  to  make  the  price  be  felt,  as 
he  knew  the  difficulty  of  getting  any  more  beer  at  any  price, 
so  he  raised  the  price  to  thirty  cents  per  glass.  Seme  of  the 
boys  now  stopped  drinking,  and  the  others  remonstrated  at  the 
price,  but  still  kept  buying.  There  were  now  only  six  kegs 
left,  and  this  being  deemed  insufficient  for  the  demand,  the 
sutler  raised  the  price  this  time  to  forty  cents  per  glass.  But 
it  seemed  that  the  boys  were  determined  to  drink  up  all  that 
beer,  though  the  majority  had  given  up  the  luxury.  Then 
the  price  was  again  raised.  It  took  fifty  cents  to  purchase  a 
glass  of  that  beer!  Then  came  the fizzale . 

“ The  boys  at  once  held  an  indignation  meeting,  and  de- 
manded the  sutler  to  lower  the  price  of  his  goods.  This  the 
merchant  man  refused  to  do,  saying  that  he  would  get  fifty  cents 
per  glass  for  what  beer  he  had  left,  or  he  would  drink  it  all 
himself. 


*52 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


44  4 All  right,’  said  one  of  the  boys,  4 if  you  don’t  come  tv_ 
reasonable  terms,  you  will  soon  wish  you  had.  We  will  give 
you  twenty-five  cents  a glass  for  what  beer  you  have  left.’ 

44  4 Not  much!  ’ replied  the  sutler — 4 I’ll  have  fifty  cents  a 
glass  for  that  beer,  or  I’ll  not  sell  you  a drop.’ 

44  This  settled  it.  Night  soon  came  on.  The  boys  were 
already  decided  as  to  their  course  of  action.  When  all  was 
quiet  around  the  camp,  one  of  them  took  the  end  of  a long 
rope  which  the  rest  had  provided  for  him,  and  crawling 
quietly  down  toward  the  sutler’s  tent,  fixed  it  to  the  end  of 
the  wagon  tongue.  The  other  boys  then  began  to  pull 
quietly,  but  surely,  and  soon  the  wagon  began  to  move  mys- 
teriously up  a high  hill  near  by.  The  soldier  who  fastened 
the  rope  to  the  wagon,  then  crept  into  it,  took  out  the  rear 
end-gate,  and  as  the  wagon  moved  up  the  hill,  he  threw 
out  a keg  of  beer  here,  and  a box  of  provisions,  candies  or 
tobacco  there,  and  a barrel  of  crackers  a little  further  on, 
until  the  entire  contents,  about  $1,500  worth  of  goods  in 
all,  were  scattered  along  the  hillside  When  the  wagon 
reached  the  crest  of  the  hill,  it  was  empty.  The  soldiers 
then  started  it  down  the  other  side,  and  it  did  not  stop  for 
half  a mile. 

44  It  did  not  require  a great  deal  of  time  for  the  goods  to 
disappear,  and  after  a general  jollification  and  distribution  of 
the  sutler’s  effects,  the  soldiers  turned  in  to  their  tents,  but 
not  before  they  had  taken  a liberal  amount  to  the  colonel’s 
tent,  including  half  a barrel  of  fine  butter  crackers. 

44  In  the  morning  the  unfortunate  sutler  made  a wonder- 
fully close  search  for  his  goods,  but  of  course  found  nothing. 
He  at  once  appealed  to  the  colonel,  and  demanded  the  arrest 
of  the  whole  regiment.  But  before  he  finished  speaking,  he 
noticed  the  crackers  in  the  colonel’s  tent. 

44  4 Yes,’  he  said,  4 and  here  you  have  half  a barrel  of  my 
crackers,’  and  the  sutler  undertook  to  take  possession  of  them. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


I53 


“ ‘ Drop  that  barrel  this  very  second,’  interfered  the  colo- 
nel, ‘or  I’ll  put  a bullet  right  through  your  stingy  carcass!’ 
and  he  drew  his  revolver  to  show  that  he  meant  business. 

“ The  sutler  dropped  the  crackers,  but  began : 

“ ‘ Well,  I’ll  have  my  own  property,  or  have  you  all  ar- 
rested.’ 

“ ‘ That  is  not  your  property,’  returned  the  colonel. 

‘ Those  crackers  were  a present  to  me,  and  I mean  to  keep 
them.  Hands  off! 5 

“ ‘ No  they  ain’t*’  the  sutler  replied, — ‘ the  cussed  thieves 
stc.^  ’em  from  me  last  night.’ 

“ ‘ That  makes  no  difference  to  me — these  crackers  were 
given  to  me  with  the  compliments  of  my  regiment,  aryl  I 
mean  to  keep  them.  I don’t  care  where  they  came  from.’ 

“ ‘ You’re  all  a set  of  d — d robbers,’  said  the  sutler — ‘ take 
a poor  man’s  property  away  from  him,  and  then  shoot  him  if 
he  tries  to  get  it  back.’ 

“ ‘ Silence!  ’ roared  the  colonel,  ‘ or  I’ll  fill  you  full  of  cold 
lead,  you  avaricious  hound!  Out  with  you,  and  never  show 
your  stingy  face  again  at  headquarters!  Charge  ten  prices  for 
your  goods,  cheat  all  you  can,  and  squeeze  every  cent  from 
the  soldiers,  and  then  complain  if  they  retaliate ! Consider 
your  commission  withdrawn,  and  never  show  yourself  here 
again ! ’ 

“ It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  sutler  did  not  set  up  another 
stock  with  that  regiment,  and  he  was  not  the  first  sutler  who 
was  served  in  a similar  way  by  oppressed  soldiers.” 

There  were  three  cheers  for  the  Stone  River  colonel  after 
this  story,  and  then  Capt.  John  O.  Pullen  delivered  the  fol- 
lowing grandiloquent  eulogium  on  the  sutler  and  the  army 
mule: 

“Comrades,  you  have  heard  in  every  Fourth-of-July  ora- 
tion of  the  ‘Volunteer  Soldiery,’  the  ‘ Loyal  Women,’  ‘Vet- 
erans of  the  Grand  Army,’  of  the  ‘Rank  and  File,’  and  obitu- 


*54 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


aries  to  the  4 Unknown’  who  were  left, bearing  their  insignia 
of  rank  across  the  river — only  their  valiant  deeds  their 
vouchers. 

44  But,  comrades,  it  is  for  me  to  tell  to-night  of  the  truly 
loyal  sutler  and  the  patriotism  of  the  army  mule;  and  I am 
glad  that  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished 
History  is  here  to  chronicle  my  remarks.  The  sutler,  unlike 
Artemus  Ward,  who  was  4 willing  to  sacrifice  all  his  wife’s 
relations  for  his  country  ’ — took  his  own  life  in  his  — 
pocket,  and  went  forth  to  dare  or  die,  that  he  might  live. 

44  It  is  fitting,  my  comrades,  that  the  sutler  should  be 
placed  first  in  this  sentiment,  as  his  loyalty — heretofore  unap- 
preciated by  those  learned  in  the  art  of  war — is  demonstrated 
by  his  valorous  chivalry  in  always  being  at  the  front  in  the 
grand  charge — for  canned  fruit  and  4 Scheidam  Schnapps.’ 

44  Who  so  loyal  as  our  sutler,  when  he  met  us  at  the  pay- 
master’s table,  and  there  by  written  testimonials  convinced  us  of 
his  willingness  to  take  charge  of  all  the  pay  Uncle  Samuel 
had  so  liberally  donated  to  us,  and  send  the  same  home  to  his 
little  ones!  Who  so  loyal,  as  when  our  sutler,  at  the  sound 
of  the  retreat,  would  appropriate  all  the  contrabands,  and 
press  into  service  all  stragglers,  for  the  removal  of  his  stores 
to  a place  of  safety — thereby  demonstrating  that  it  was  for 
Uncle  Sam’s  volunteer  soldiery  that  his  loyal  heart  was  beat- 
ing? Who  so  loyal  as  the  sutler,  when  the  Southern  Con- 
federacy acknowledged  the  collapse,  and  by  his  counsel,  and 
on  the  stump,  and  through  the  public  press  he  denounced  the 
squandering  of  the  nation’s  wealth,  either  as  bounty  or  pen- 
sions upon  the  4 hirelings  ’ who  had  taken  their  lives  in  their 
hands,  4 and  gone  forth  to  battle,  that  a nation  might  live?’ 

44  Truly,  the  loyalty  of  the  sutler  of  the  volunteer  army 
shines  equal  to  the  electric  light  of  the  present  times,  and 
while  the  brilliancy  of  the  loyalty  of  the  sutler  is  so  tran- 
scendent, that  pure  sparkle  in  the  eye  of  our  army  mule,  with 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


*55 


its  liquid  fire  of  loving  patriotism,  surmounts  the  illuminating 
deeds  of  ‘ Sherman’s  Bummers.’ 

“ Our  army  mule’s  patriotism  far  exceeded  that  of  the 
numan  race;  an  animal  with  no  ancestors  to  vindicate,  or 
posterity  to  protect;  an  individuality  unknown  in  civilized  war- 
fare until  the  Mate  unpleasantness’!  The  first  we  learn  of 
this  purely  patriotic  beast  is  in  divine  history,  when  the  great- 
great-great-grand-dam  of  his  step-brother’s  sire  is  recorded 
as  saving  the  life  of  one  of  the  great  leaders  of  the  warfare 
of  that  day,  by  holding  a conversation  with  an  authorized 
agent  from  the  Great  Commander  of  the  Universe,  in  a walled 
lane,  whereby  she  saved  her  master  from  the  sword  by  her 
perceptive  faculty  and  vocal  ability. 

u Our  patriotic  mule’s  only  quasi  paternity  known  tc 
fame  is  that  of  the  great-great-grand-sire  of  his  step-sister, 
when,  as  also  recorded  in  divine  history,  an  eminent  warrior 
took  the  musical  portion  of  his  anatomy,  and  slew  a thousand 
Philistines. 

“ It  is  quite  probable  that  these  two  demonstrations  of  the 
vocal  ability  of  these  senior  kindred  ancestors  so  discouraged 
this  race  by  non-appreciation,  that  they  were  lost  to  history 
until  there  came  the  call  for  volunteer  soldiery.  Then  the 
commotion  commenced,  and  the  cry  went  forth  for  trans* 
portation. 

“ Down  in  the  4 blue  grass  ’ region,  from  that  soil  upon 
which  the  great  commander-in-chief  of  all  the  American 
armies  first  saw  the  light  of  life,  came  forth  also  Balaam’s 
faithful  servant  of  yore, — this  patriotic  volunteer,  ready  to 
bear  the  greatest  burdens  and  support  a tottering  nation  in  its 
trying  ordeal  for  life. 

“ When  this  demonstrative  patriot  came  forth,  bestrided 
by  the  4 great  mogul  ’ of  the  army,  that  talented  linguist, — he 
to  whom  all  of  the  army  were  subservient,  the  Jehu, — as  he 
threw  his  leg  over  the  ‘off  cuss,’  and  pulled  the  check  line;  do 


156  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 

you  remember,  comrades,  how  those  little  fellows  in  the  lead 
who  had  known  no  service,  twinkled  their  eyes  and  wriggled 
their  ears  in  anticipation  of  becoming  a prominent  force  in 
maintaining  the  dignity  of  this  great  republic;  and  then  when 
the  welcome  sound  was  vibrated  from  hill  top  to  hill  top, 
and  came  rushing  through  the  valleys,  c I’se  coming!  ! Pse 
coming!  ! !’  and  the  cracker  line  was  opened?  And  do  you 
likewise  remember,  as  in  the  exuberance  of  joy  you  caressed 
this  patriot,  how  he,  with  his  pathetic  acknowledgement, 
winked  and  blinked  his  eye  and  wagged  his  ear?  I tell  you, 
comrades,  such  history  must  and  will  be  preserved. 

“But  the  order  of c About — face!’  came, — then  the  trouble 
commenced.  Our  mule  was  par  excellence , the  true  ideal  of 
independence,  of  pluck,  of  endurance,  and  of  power;  always 
ready  to  advance  with  the  usual  speed  as  dictated  by  his 
judgment,  but  always  adverse  to  a retreat,  as  requiring  too 
much  haste  and  accompanying  excitement,  which  caused  a 
contraction  of  the  nerves  along  the  spinal  column,  and  made  a 
rear  view  a decidedly  precarious  position  to  maintain.  It  was 
clearly  demonstrated  that  his  majesty,  the  army  mule,  instead 
of  the  cowardly  eagle,  should  have  been  selected  as  our 
national  bird  of  freedom. 

“ While  with  the  critical  judge  he  would  hardly  compare 
with  the  king  of  the  forest,  or  c Mary’s  little  lamb,’  neverthe- 
less he  is  an  animal  of  imposing  presence  and  commanding 
great  respect  from  the  rear. 

“ When  at  the  close  of  the  war  at  the  grand  review  in 
Washington,  who  demonstrated  his  patriotism  so  loudly  as  the 
veteran  army  mule? — standing  at  the  street  corners,  and  nod- 
ding his  head  from  left  to  right,  calling  your  attention  to  the 
scars  of  war  from  collar-gall  to  breeching-blister,  and  articu 
lating  in  his  sadly  musical  voice: 


“ ‘ Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye.’  ” 


CAMP-FIRE  XII. 


BUSHWHACKING WHAT  CIRCUMSTANCES  DO  WITH  CASES 

A JEST  ON  GEN.  A.  J.  SMITH FORAGING. 

SERHAPS  the  most  inexcusable  practice  in  all  the  Civil 
War  was  that  of  “bushwhacking.”  The  “ bushwhacker” 
— ^ was  not  a soldier,  but  a cowardly,  contemptible  battle- 
man  who  never  carried  on  hostilities  unless  he  was  unopposed. 
His  name  portrays  his  true  character.  He  generally  prided 
himself  on  his  skill  in  playing  his  role . Around  the  flanks 
of  armies,  on  the  march  and  in  the  camp,  could  be  seen  his 
suspicious  figure  peddling  sundry  goods  to  the  soldiers  during 
the  day, — much  to  the  disgust  of  the  sutler, — and  at  night  he 
would  lie  in  ambush  to  kill  some  unguarded  traveler,  simply 
for  the  plunder  he  could  obtain. 

The  “ bushwhacker  ” was  somewhat  similar  to  the  guer- 
illa, except  that  he  sometimes  had  a smooth  side  to  his  char- 
acter, which  would  permit  him  to  walk  among  the  soldiers 
in  daylight,  and  acquire  such  information  as  would  aid  his 
despicable  designs  at  night.  Again,  he  never  grew  bold,  like 
the  guerilla,  but  generally  perambulated  alone  in  thickets  and 
obscure  places,  invariably  keeping  near  a safe  retreat.  How- 
ever, there  is  one  consolation  in  the  recollection  of  him,  even 
though  it  was  the  result  of  selfishness;  he  was  broad-minded 
in  his  theft,  stealing  from  all  armies  alike,  yet  like  the  moun- 
taineers of  old,  he  “ never  took  anything  which  he  could  not 
carry  off.” 

But  his  marksmanship  was  good.  Many  a poor  sentinel 
who  went  forth  to  die  in  the  front  ranks  of  a great  battle  in 

*57 


158  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

the  war,  found  an  unprovoked  and  untimely  death  at  the 
instance  of  a “ bushwhacker’s  ” musket,  with  nothing  but  the 
quiet  stars  to  witness  the  atrocity. 

It  is  beneath  the  dignity  of  the  Society  for  the  Preserva- 
tion of  Unpublished  History  to  place  in  its  honored  annals 
any  panegyric  on  the  w bushwhacker”;  but  he  was  a part  of 
the  war,  just  as  vermin  were  a part  of  prison  pens,  and  for 
once  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  felt  like  calling  itself  the  “ Society  for 
the  Persecution  of  Unhung  Heroes.”  However,  an  incident 
by  Mr.  S.  W.  Rodgers  of  the  113th  Ohio  Volunteer  Infantry 
will  show  how  the  “ bushwhacker  ” sometimes  received  his 
desert : 

“ While  a portion  of  the  army  was  lying  at  Franklin, 
Tenn.,  in  the  spring  of  1863,  a number  of  Johnnies  were 
encamped  at  Spring  Hill,  only  six  miles  distant.  There  had 
been  considerable  skirmishing  between  the  two  armies,  and 
bushwhacking  on  all  sides;  and  a certain  picket  post  in  Grass 
Creek  valley,  just  where  the  skirmish  line  crossed  the  stream, 
was  being  molested  continually. 

u Accordingly  one  night,  a brave,  stout  young  fellow  was 
posted  there,  who  was  thought  equal  to  any  emergency.  He 
kept  quiet  for  a time,  but  finally  perfected  a scheme  in  his 
mind  to  entrap  the  wary  bushwhacker  who  disturbed  the 
place.  He  made  the  outline  of  a man  with  some  sticks,  then 
threw  an  old  coat  over  the  frame,  and  with  a long  stick  as  a 
substitute  for  a gun  at  support,  the  bogus  sentinel  was  ready 
to  receive  the  bushwhacker’s  bullet. 

“ There  were  two  or  three  other  boys  besides  the  sentinel 
waiting  to  assist  in  capturing  the  bushwhacker,  if  their  aid 
should  be  needed.  All  hands  were  not  much  more  than 
well  hidden  before  c Whang!’  went  the  bushwhacker’s  bullet 
through  the  supposed  sentinel  at  his  post.  At  the  crack  of 
the  gun,  the  young  fellow  who  had  been  ordered  to  the  post 
started  on  a lively  race  through  the  brush,  and  before  he  had 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  Cl  VIL  WAR. 


*59 


gone  many  yards  he  succeeded  in  overtaking  the  bush- 
whacker, and  laid  his  strong  arm  on  him. 

“ 4 Come  on,  boys,’  called  the  sentinel  to  his  comrades 
6 I’ve  caught  the  rascal ! ’ 

“ The  bushwhacker  had  not  a word  to  say.  He  was 
taken  to  a spot  where  the  moonlight  could  shine  full  in  his 
face,  and  was  found  to  be  a person  who  lived  near  the  camp, 
and  had  peddled  pies,  milk,  bread  and  cakes  to  the  soldiers 
that  very  day.  He  had  preached  sometimes  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  pretended  to  cover  his  dark  career  with  the  meek 
and  lowly  garb  of  Christianity.  But  alas! 

“ ‘ Truth,  crush’d  to  earth,  shall  rise  again : 

The  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers ; 

But  Error,  wounded,  writhes  with  pain, 

And  dies  among  his  worshipers.’ 

“ The  result  was  that  summary  punishment  was  meted 
out  to  this  despicable  man  at  the  hands  of  the  outraged 
soldiers.” 

There  was  another  class  of  preachers  with  the  army,  how- 
ever, who  were  somewhat  more  sincere  in  their  duties,  as  the 
following  will  show: 

“ There  were  but  few  comrades  in  Kilpatrick’s  cavalry 
who  did  not  know  Chaplain  Cartwright,  of  the  92d  Illinois, 
for  he  was  one  of  those  men  who  are  always  doing  some- 
thing to  help  the  condition  of  the  boys.  I remember  when 
he  first  joined  the  regiment  at  Franklin,  Tenn.  He  seemed 
to  be  boiling  over  to  assist  the  boys,  and  many  a surviving 
comrade  can  testify  to  the  untiring  efforts  of  Father  Cart- 
wright in  alleviating  their  sufferings  while  lying  in  a hospital 
tent,  or  upon  the  march. 

“ The  first  march  we  took  after  he  joined  us  was  from 
Franklin,  Tenn.,  to  Triune.  It  was  in  the  spring  of  the  year. 
The  sun  shone  brightly,  and  the  boys  were  loaded  down  with 
whiter  clothing,  which  they  soon  threw  by  the  roadside,  some 


i6o 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


casting  oft  everything  except  their  ponchos.  The  good  old 
chaplain  came  riding  along,  and  seeing  so  many  blankets, 
blouses,  shirts,  etc.,  jumped  off  his  horse  and  began  to  pack 
the  animal  with  these  various  articles  of  clothing,  saying  to 
himself,  4 My  boys  will  be  glad  to  get  these  articles  when 
they  go  into  camp  to-night.  If  I only  knew  to  whom  tney 
belonged,  I would  take  them  to  their  tents.’ 

44  The  aged  man  trudged  along  all  day,  leading  his  horse, 
and  when  he  came  into  camp  that  night,  his  old  horse  looked 
like  a traveling  pawnshop.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  tiie 
faithful  chaplain  had  no  trouble  whatever  in  finding  owners 
for  every  article  of  value, — in  fact,  he  could  have  disposed  of 
an  army  wagon  load.  A smile  lit  up  his  countenance  while 
the  boys  were  unloading  the  horse,  and  he  remarked  that  he 
wished  he  had  a cargo  to  give  them,  for  he  found  the  reward 
for  his  labor  in  the  gratitude  that  was  visible  on  every  face.” 

A soldier  in  the  (late)  command  of  Gen.  A.  J.  Smith, 
who  well  understood  the  General’s  character,  then  told  this: 

44  In  December,  1862,  while  Sherman’s  army  was  moving 
down  the  Mississippi  River  on  transports  to  attack  the  Con- 
federate stronghold  at  Vicksburg,  the  supply  of  fuel  became 
somewhat  limited,  and  we  were  obliged  to  obtain  that  neces- 
sary article  wherever  opportunity  offered,  sometimes  at  a 
deserted  wood-yard,  at  other  times  from  the  dry  rail  fences  of 
the  rich  plantations  which  were  too  tempting  for  the  pilots  to 
pass  by. 

44  These  occasions  were  hailed  with  joy  by  the  men,  as 
they  were  enabled  to  leave  the  close  quarters  on  board  for  a 
ramble  upon  terra  Jirma ; and  although  they  were  required 
to  assist  in  4 toting’  the  wood  or  rails  to  the  steamer,  few,  if 
any,  held  back,  but  all  were  anxious  to  get  what  little  exer- 
cise such  occasions  afforded. 

44  On  one  of  these  halts,  the  steamboat  which  was  partly 
occupied  as  the  headquarters  of  Gen.  A.  J.  Smith,  whose  many 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIR  WAR.  l6l 

eccentricities  were  widely  known  throughout  the  division, 
effected  a landing  immediately  in  front  of  a beautiful  planta- 
tion, upon  the  right  bank  of  the  river.  The  plantation  house, 
one  of  those  grand  old  Southern  homes,  was  situated  about 
forty  rods  back  from  the  river,  with  a beautiful  lawn  gently 
sloping  down  to  the  bank,  studded  with  semi-tropical  trees 
and  foliage  plants,  while  at  one  side  in  the  rear  of  the  house 
were  the  outbuildings,  around  which  were  plainly  seen  a 
large  number  of  chickens  and  larger  poultry,  which  were 
the  only  animate  objects  to  be  seen  upon  the  premises. 

“ I presume  that  every  old  soldier  will  bear  me  witness 
that  there  is  nothing  in  their  experience  which  so  sharpens  a 
man’s  appetite  for  chicken  as  a few  days’  steady  diet  of  hard 
tack  and  bacon,  and  the  men  upon  the  General’s  boat  were 
no  exception  to  the  rule ; hence  as  they  filed  off  the  boat  after 
rails,  occasionally  a man  was  seen  to  visit  the  neighborhood 
of  the  above-mentioned  out-buildings,  and  when  he  returned 
with  several  rails  upon  his  shoulder,  a large  protuberance 
was  noticeable  under  the  breast  of  his  overcoat. 

44  While  standing  upon  the  upper  deck  of  the  boat,  Gen- 
eral Smith  had  noticed  a commotion  among  the  chickens,  and 
immediately  his  ire  was  aroused  to  a towering  height.  He 
descended  to  the  boiler  deck  with  all  promptness  and  gusto, 
and  with  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  required  the  men  as  they 
came  on  board  to  unbutton  their  overcoats  and  surrender  their 
coveted  plunder.  In  a very  few  minutes  there  were  lying  at 
the  General’s  feet  some  dozens  of  chickens,  while  his  eye 
showed  that  he  keenly  enjoyed  the  disappointment  of  the  men 
who  reluctantly  relinquished  their  prizes  at  his  stern  command. 

4 Presently  a man  came  on  board,  bringing  an  unusually 
large  load  of  rails,  whose  coat  had  the  appearance  of  the 
others  who  had  come  to  grief. 

44 4 What  have  you  under  your  coat?’ gruffly  demanded 
the  General. 


ii 


l62 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


44 4 Well,  General,  if  it  makes  no  difference  to  you,  I had 
rather  not  tell.’ 

44  4 Unbutton  your  coat , sir  ! ’ 

44  4 1 had  rather  not,  General.’ 

44  Raising  his  sword  in  a threatening  attitude,  the  General 
yelled  at  the  top  of  his  voice: 

44  4 Unbutton  your  coat!  d n you,  or  I’ll  open  it 

for  you!  ’ 

44  The  soldier  now  saw  that  the  General  meant  business, 
and  in  all  meekness  replied: 

44  4 Well,  General,  if  I must  I must ,’  and  in  a hesitating 
manner  he  slowly  unbuttoned  his  coat,  when,  to  the  General’s 
surprise  and  great  disgust,  there  dropped  down  a huge  billet 
of  stove  wood. 

44  4 Sold,  by  G d!  ’ said  the  General,  and  he  turned  on 

his  heel,  walked  up  into  his  cabin,  and  left  the  boys  to  enjoy 
their  chickens  as  best  they  could.” 

[It  was  with  some  hesitation  and  considerable  disturbance 
of  the  finer  feelings  of  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of 
Unpublished  History,  that  they  consented  to  place  any  pro- 
fanity upon  their  sacred  scroll ; but  it  was  argued  that  this 
dialect  was  so  very  characteristic  of  some  soldiers  and  officers 
that  their  quoted  language  would  be  incomplete  without  it. 
When,  however,  in  the  course  of  human  events  it  becomes 
necessary  for  the  society  in  its  diction  to  contend  with  these 
useless  expressions,  their  historic  minds  revert  to  a lecture 
once  given  by  a prominent  but  profane  general  in  the  war, 
who  was  indeed  superabundant  in  his  profanity.  The  gen- 
eral was  a very  interesting  speaker,  and  proceeded  to  the 
delight  of  the  audience  until  near  the  close.  He  related  many 
humorous  incidents  in  the  earlier  part  of  his  discourse,  and 
finally  came  to  the  pathetic  side  of  army  life.  He  told  of  the 
sufferings  in  the  prison  pens,  and  of  the  touching  experiences 
there.  Then  he  came  to  44  homesickness,”  and  remembered 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  163 

an  incident  of  a young  soldier  who  had  been  in  camp  for 
some  time  along  the  malarial  Chickahominy,  and  longed  to 
return  home.  The  soldier  had  fully  realized  the  hardships  of 
war,  and  could  well  repeat  Longfellow’s  sweet  “ Psalm  of 
Life.”  The  general  here  thought  he  would  give  the  words, 
and  believing  that  he  had  the  “ Psalm  of  Life  ” so  well  com- 
mitted to  memory,  he  allowed  his  mind  to  wander  on  in  the 
course  of  his  lecture,  while  he  trusted  his  vocal  organs,  un- 
thoughtfully,  to  pronounce  it. 

“ * Tell  me  not,  in  mournful  numbers, 

Life  is  but  a d d dream,* 

said  the  vocal  organs,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  the  gen- 
eral’s ears  and  all  others  who  heard  the  mistaken  utterance. 
Well  understanding  the  general’s  character,  the  audience 
burst  into  applause.  When  the  merriment  subsided,  the  gen- 
eral apologized  for  his  error,  and  though  he  had  previously 
prided  himself  on  the  forcible  and  fearless  language  of  his 
everyday  life,  he  then  and  there  declared  that  that  was  the 
last  time  he  would  ever  use  profane  language.] 

The  following  was  then  told  before  the  camp-fire,  by  one 
of  the  boys  who  took  part  in  the  experience: 

“ On  the  night  of  Dec.  31,  1863,  two  members  of  our 
Company, — K,  92d  Illinois, — passed  the  pickets  at  Hunts- 
ville, Ala.,  and  started  for  the  Matthews  Plantation,  to  ascer- 
tain whether  any  forage  was  lying  around  loose.  Upon 
entering  the  gate  several  shots  were  heard  in  the  direction  of 
the  negro  quarters,  and  we  feared  that  bushwhackers  were 
near,  so  we  made  a reconnoissance,  and  soon  discovered  that 
the  darkeys  had  secured  some  of  our  metallic  cartridges,  and 
were  celebrating  New  Year’s  eve  by  throwing  them  into  a 
bonfire. 

u This  was  a great  relief  to  us,  but  while  we  were  talking 
10  the  darkeys  a new  danger  threatened.  The  old  gate  again 


164  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

swung  upon  its  hinges,  and  eight  mounted  men  came  upon 
us.  Of  course  we  thought  they  were  Johnnies,  and  they 
passed  the  same  compliment  upon  us.  It  was  quite  dark,  so 
we  could  not  tell  from  the  uniforms  whom  we  were  address- 
ing. They  asked  us: 

44  6 Who  are  you?  ’ 

44  4 Yanks,’  we  said. 

44  4 Where  do  you  belong?  ’ 

44  4 To  the  92d  Illinois  Infantry;  * then  it  was  our  turn,  and 
we  asked: 

44  4 Who  are  you P — cavalry  from  the  1st  Ohio?* 

444  Mathematically  correct,’  they  said;  4 how  did  yea  know 
it?’ 

444  Oh!’  we  replied,  4 your  regiment  went  through  Hunts- 
ville to-day.’ 

46  Then  they  got  off  and  felt  us  from  head  to  foot  to  make 
sure  that  we  had  told  them  the  truth.  When  they  were 
convinced  they  asked  us  again: 

444  Where  are  you  bound  for?’ 

44  4 F oragin’,’  we  replied. 

44  4 All  right;  let’s  proceed  to  business,  boys,’  they  said; 
and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  we  were  making 
selections  from  a stock  of  well-cured  hams  which  were  stored 
in  the  smoke-house.  From  there  we  proceeded  to  the  house, 
upon  entering  which  the  Ohio  boys  began  to  pillage.  I pro- 
tested ; and,  being  the  only  person  in  the  crowd  who  wore  a 
blue  overcoat,  the  folks  thought  I was  an  officer,  and  appealed 
to  me: 

44  4 Do  you  allow  your  men  to  commit  depredations  of  this 
kind  ? ’ 

44  4 No,’  I returned, 4 1 would  not  if  I had  any  control  over 
them.’ 

44  4 Are  you  an  officer?’ 

44  4 No,’  I answered. 


GEN.  O.  O.  HOWARD. 


ADMIRAL  D.  D.  PORTER. 


GEN.  PHIL  SHERIDAN. 


GEN.  E.  S.  BRAGG. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  165 

44  4 Well,  will  you  regard  a protection?’ 

44  4 It  depends  upon  who  gives  the  protection,’  I said. 

44  4 Colonel  Alexander,’  they  replied. 

44  By  this  time  the  boys  were  up-stairs,  ransacking  the 
house,  and  I told  the  folks  that  I would  go  up  and  use  my 
influence  to  have  them  stop;  and  here  is  how  I succeeded: 

44  4 Boys,’ I said,  4 this  must  be  stopped;  these  folks  have 
a protection  from  Colonel  Alexander,  commanding  the  post 
at  Huntsville.’ 

44  4 Who  in  h — 1 is  he?'  asked  one  of  the  Ohio  boys. 

44  4 Say,  92d,’  said  another,  4 don’t  you  want  some  sugar?  ’ 
44  4 No,  boys,’  I replied,  4 I don’t  want  anything  when  we 
get  it  this  way.’ 

44  4 Ha!  ha!  ha!’  they  laughed, 4 you’re  no  forager,’  and 
just  then  one  of  them  secured  a pair  of  linen  pantaloons,  tied 
up  the  ends  of  the  legs,  told  the  boys  to  scoop  in  some  sugar, 
and  when  it  was  well  filled,  he  threw  it  across  my  shoulders 
with  the  remark: 

44  4 Here,  try  some  of  our  best  brand  of  Southern  sugar.’ 

44  I confess  that  I did  hump  my  shoulders  a little  to  keep 
it  from  sliding  off,  and  when  I thought  of  taking  to  camp 
enough  sugar  for  the  whole  company,  my  moral  nature  gave 
clear  away,  and  I allowed  the  pantaloons  full  of  sugar  to 
remain  around  my  neck. 

44  We  began  to  depart,  one  by  one.  We  filed  down  the 
stairs,  while  the  family  were  at  the  bottom,  anxiously  await- 
ing the  return  of  the  supposed  officer.  They  were  in  some 
distress,  and  as  we  passed  out  with  our  pillage,  they  began 
to  cry.  It  was  really  pitiful,  but  nevertheless  ludicrous,  as 
they  began  to  lament: 

44  4 Oh!  there  goes  poor  uncle’s  boots!’ 

44  4 Yes,  an’  there  goes  poor  uncle’s  coat,’  said  another. 

44  4 An’  there  goes  poor  uncle’s  hat.  Oh  ! oh  ! ’ 
u 4 An’  there  goes  poor  uncle’s  pants,’  they  said,  as  I passed 


l66  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

out.  4 He’s  been  dead  five  years,  an’  ef  his  sperit  knowed  what 
was  goin’  on,  it ’d  make  him  turn  over  in  his  grave.  Oh  ! oh  /T 

44  It  is  needless  to  say  that  I did  not  stop  to  report  my 
•uccess  in  persuading  the  boys  to  leave  the  premises. 

“We  now  had  meat,  flour,  sugar  and  coffee;  and  there 
were  about  150  hives  of  bees  in  the  yard,  so  we  thought  we 
would  take  along  a little  honey. 

44  The  1st  Ohio  boys  were  veterans  at  this  business,  and 
while  I was  using  my  thumb  and  finger  trying  to  get  the 
honey  without  being  stung,  they  had  filled  their  vessels.  One 
of  them  grabbed  my  hand  and  said: 

444  See  here,  g2d,  I’ll  show  you  how  to  take  honey  /’  and 
with  that  he  smeared  my  hands  all  over  with  the  sticky  stuff, 
and  continued: 

44 4 Now  go  in  for  it.’ 

44  My  comrade  and  I had  two  vessels, — an  eight-gallon  jar 
and  a long  butter  bowl.  We  very  soon  filled  these,  and 
were  then  ready  to  bid  farewell  to  the  Matthews  Plantation. 
I took  the  jar  of  honey  and  4 poor  uncle’s  pants  ’ full  of  sugar, 
and  my  comrade  had  the  butter  bowl  full  of  honey,  and  some 
other  things. 

44  We  then  said  4 Good-bye’  to  our  Ohio  companions,  and 
started  for  Huntsville.  The  night  was  very  dark.  A driz- 
zling rain  set  in,  and  in  passing  through  the  woods  we  lost 
our  way.  I got  off  my  horse  and  felt  around  for  the  road, 
but  could  not  find  any.  I told  my  comrade  to  follow  me, 
and  I believed  I could  come  out  of  the  woods  all  right. 
We  had  not  gone  far,  however,  before  my  comrade  began  to 
indulge  in  profanity  to  an  alarming  extent. 

44  4 What’s  the  matter?  ’ I asked. 

44  4 Matter!  the  pommel  of  my  saddle  has  punched  a hole 
in  the  bottom  of  this  bowl,  and  this  honey  has  run  all  over 
me!  Whjr,  blast  my  buttons!  if  the  stuff  hasn’t  glued  me  to 
my  saddle!’ 


ll'ORAGTNG 


i68 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR* 


“*Ha!  ha!  ha!’  I laughed. 

What  shall  I do?’  he  asked  angrily 
“c  Why,’  I told  him,  6 if  you  are  glued  to  your  saddle,  the 
only  thing  you  can  do  is  to  sit  still  until  I can  get  you  out.’ 

“ c Curse  this  foragin’  business,  anyhow;  curse  war;  curse 
everything;  it  all  goes  wrong,’  he  said. 

“ c Throw  the  stuff  away,’  I suggested;  and  with  many 
regrets  he  flung  it  against  a tree,  but  this  left  us  eight  gal- 
lons still. 

“ We  passed  on  through  the  woods,  and  finally  reached 
the  picket,  who  asked  us  who  we  were.  We  told  him  where 
we  belonged,  and  that  we  had  been  out  that  day  scouting  and 
picking  up  salt  (which  was  true);  that  we  had  got  lost  from 
our  command.  He  let  us  pass,  and  we  reached  camp  at  4 
o’clock  a.  m.  We  learned  that  the  orders  were  to  march  at 
6 o’clock;  but  we  treated  the  whole  company  to  the  honey 
and  sugar,  and  I shall  never  forget  how  the  boys  cheered  us 
on  the  success  of  our  first  lesson  in  foraging.” 

“ Son  J.  H.”  then  contended  that  soldiers  were  “ creatures 
of  circumstance,”  in  the  following  language: 

“ I believe  that  we  are  in  a very  large  degree  creatures 
governed  by  circumstances.  This  was  plainly  demonstrated 
to  my  mind  while  I was  in  the  army.  I was  a boy  of  but 
nineteen  when  I enlisted.  My  parents  very  much  disliked  to 
have  me  go,  but  finally  gave  their  consent  if  I would  go  with 
Mr.  S. 

“ This  Mr.  S.  had  been  my  school  teacher  the  year  before* 
and  I very  readily  agreed  to  that;  so  we  went  off  together 
with  sixteen  of  the  neighborhood  boys. 

“The  object  my  parents  had  in  wanting  me  to  go  with 
Mr.  S.  was  two-fold:  (1)  he  was  a near  neighbor,  and  (2) 
they  thought  his  influence  would  help  to  keep  their  son  J.  in 
the  path  of  right  doing.  All  was  very  well  until  we  were 
on  the  march  with  General  Fremont  in  Missouri.  Provisions 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 


169 


became  very  short,  and  then  it  was  that  this  son  J.  (with 
others)  thought  about  the  wicked  practice  of  foraging.  For 
this  purpose  we  visited  a hen-house  one  evening,  but  alas! 
how  circumstances  were  against  us.  We  found  the  door 
barred,  and  two  large  Southern  hounds  tied  on  the  inside. 
But,  determined  not  to  be  outdone,  we  changed  our  plan  of 
attack.  We  concluded  for  the  time  to  be  honest,  and  go  in 
and  ask  for  some  of  the  chickens.  We  did  so.  The  old  man 
was  very  kind  aifd  glad  to  give  us  two  as  a reward  of  merit 
for  being  honest  and  asking  for  them. 

“ Now  we  went  from  that  hen-house  across  the  way  to 
another  where  the  circumstances  were  different, — no  dogs  on 
the  inside,  but  plenty  of  fat  chickens.  We  mounted  a rail 
fence  which  joined  the  hen-house,  and  slipping  the  boards  to 
one  side,  we  put  in  our  honest  hand  and  it  brought  out  eight 
nice  ones.  We  then  went  back  after  the  ninth,  but  an  old 
hen  that  had  been  trained  gave  the  alarm,  and  the  circum- 
stances were  such  just  then  that  we  were  obliged  to  make  a 
hasty  departure. 

“From  these  and  other  incidents  which  passed  under  my 
observation,  I am  inclined  to  believe  that  we  were  governed 
by  our  circumstances;  at  least,  we  rarely  attempted  to  rob  a 
hen-roost  when  it  was  guarded  by  bushwhackers  and  blood- 
hounds.” 


CAMP-FIRE  XIII. 


BATTLES  UNSUNG  BY  THE  MUSE  OF  HISTORY ORIGIN  OF 

THE  STARS  AND  STRIPES— GENE  ALOGY  OF  GEORGE 
WASHINGTON. 

y|^^(AMP-FIRE  Thirteen  had  for  its  subject  the  most 
pathetic  part,  perhaps,  of  the  whole  purpose  of  the 
sgrl  S.  P.  U.  H. — to  place  garlands  of  fame  upon  the 
brows  of  unflattered  heroes.  Accordingly,  all  who  had  par- 
ticipated in  battles  which  had  never  been  chronicled  upon  the 
papyrus  of  history  were  invited  to  relieve  their  minds  of  any 
unwritten  conflicts  which  they  might  remember. 

Thereupon  there  was  at  once  great  confusion  in  the  as- 
sembly. It  almost  seemed  as  though,  instead  of  simply  re- 
lating accounts  of  these  heretofore  unheard  of  battles,  the 
veterans  were  attempting  to  act  them  out ! But  the  disci- 
pline of  the  camp  was  most  perfect;  and  to  reduce  the  chaos 
to  system  it  was  only  necessary  for  the  commander,  after  he 
secured  attention,  to  suggest  that  the  veterans  talk  by 
companies  and  regiments — one  company  at  a time.  Imme- 
diately there  was  harmony,  and  the  accustomed  good  feeling  at 
once  returned. 

But  the  relief  was  only  temporary.  It  was  like  a flag  of 
truce  or  a lull  in  a great  battle  in  order  , to  bring  heavy  re- 
serve forces  forward  for  more  regular  and  telling  blows. 
When  this  reflection  presented  itself  to  the  ambassadors 
from  the  throne  of  history,  their  stock  of  long-suffering  was 
at  once  exhausted.  They  suddenly  recalled  the  close  of 
the  first  camp-fire,  when  all  the  veterans  present  were  talked 

I^O 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR,  1 7 1 

to  sleep  by  one  man.  What  would  it  be  now  with  the  ora- 
torical force  so  multiplied?  Truly,  Camp-fire  Thirteen  was 
an  unlucky  number.  But  the  lamb  submitted  to  the  slaugh- 
ter. Lighting  a fresh  “ Havana,”  which  the  commissary  ot 
subsistence  had  thoughtfully  provided  in  plenty,  the  histori- 
cal visitors  arranged  their  dignity  for  the  night,  while  the 
commander  bade  his  followers  begin  their  work. 

The  first  step  was  a motion.  It  was  seconded,  where- 
upon came  the  resolution : 

Whereas , We,  the  veterans  here  in  camp-fire  assembled, 
desire  to  preserve  for  the  benefit  of  posterity  the  memoirs  of 
our  most  manifest  feats  in  the  “ late  unpleasantness;”  and, 
Whereas , There  were  many  battles  in  said  unpleasantness 
which  have  been  heretofore  unrecorded;  therefore, 

Resolved , That  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Un- 
published History  be  hereby  petitioned  to  place  the  same  in 
its  annals. 

The  same  was  thereby  placed  in  the  said  annals,  after  the 
several  records  were  related,  and  the  aforesaid  memoirs  were 
duly  contributed  to  the  society’s  collection  of  curiosities. 

The  first  speaker  tried  his  memory,  and  related  an  account 
of  a mountain  skirmish;  but  this  was  found  in  the  official 
reports  published  by  the  Government.  In  like  manner  the 
discussions  proceeded  until  the  camp-fire  embers  were  nearly 
all  consumed,  and  the  evening  had  grown  late.  Nevertheless, 
the  representatives  of  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  noted  the  minutes  of 
the  meeting  literally,  in  accordance  with  the  hereinbefore- 
mentioned  resolution,  until  finally  one  veteran  from  a Kansas 
regiment  remembered  a battle  which  he  was  sure  had  not 
been  recorded  in  history. 

c‘On  the  Fourth  of  July,  1863,”  said  he,  “ was,  indeed, 
one  of  the  grandest  climaxes  of  the  war.  The  haughty  city 
of  Vicksburg  fell,  and  was  allowed  to  come  up  out  of  the 
ground.  The  bloody  battle  of  Gettysburg  was  fought,  with 


172 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


which  two  battles  the  public  mind  was  so  occupied  that  it 
could  not  notice  the  rest  of  the  carnage.  But  there  were 
other  mighty  battles  fought  at  that  time,  one  of  which  was 
in  the  midst  of  a large  Western  city. 

“ However,  the  preliminary  to  this  must  be  understood. 
Of  course  people  all  over  the  country  were  celebrating  the 

day,  and  our  city,  in  which  I had  been  confined  in  L ’s 

general  hospital  for  six  weeks,  was  no  exception  to  the  rule. 

“ To  entertain  the  wounded  soldiers,  and  fill  his  own 
purse,  an  ingenious  Frenchman  obtained  permission  from  the 
city  authorities  to  give  a balloon  ascension  at  one  of  the  large 
parks.  It  was  expected  to  be  a grand  affair.  There  were  to 
be  other  performances  in  a tent  near  by,  and  some  rockets 
were  to  be  sent  up,  with  a further  display  of  fireworks. 
All  soldiers  who  had  enough  money  bought  their  tickets  at 
fifty  cents  apiece,  and  also  those  who  could  borrow  money. 

“ The  morning  came,  and  we  all  went  up  to  the  park. 
On  arriving,  we  found  a man  there  to  take  our  tickets,  but 
very  meager  preparations  had  been  made  to  entertain  us. 
The  old  balloon  was  torn,  and  there  were  holes  in  it  in  some 
places  two  feet  in  diameter.  The  rest  of  the  programme 
was  in  a similar  dilapidated  state  of  rehearsal.  Soldiers  are 
not  the  people  to  be  deceived  or  cheated  in  such  a manner, 
so  the  boys  determined  to  have  the  fireworks,  at  any  rate,  and 
they  took  the  thing  into  their  own  hands.  They  tore  up 
things  generally  around  there,  and  when  they  left  there  was 
not  a piece  of  that  balloon  large  enough  for  a Comanche  In- 
dian’s pocket  handkerchief.'  But  they  kept  the  rockets  for 
future  use. 

“We  returned  to  the  hospital  to  rest  after  our  sport,  much 
disappointed.  But  we  had  the  rockets  on  hand  and  a few  Ro- 
man candles  which  must  be  disposed  of  in  some  way. 

“Just  across  from  the  hospital  was  the  Fifth  Street  mar- 
ket, which  we  could  see  from  our  side  of  the  building  that 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


I73 


fronted  on  Broadway.  The  hospital  was  located  in  the 
worst  part  of  the  city,  as  far  as  the  sentiments  of  the  people 
were  taken  into  account,  for  on  every  side  our  neighbors  were 
the  most  bitter  ‘ copperheads.’  Some  of  them  had  gone  to 
the  would-be  balloon  ascension  in  the  afternoon,  and  they, 
too,  had  Roman  candles  and  sky-rockets.  The  possession  of 
these  suggested  to  them  a new  method  of  tormenting  the 
sick  and  wounded  soldiers  in  the  hospital,  so  they  gathered  at 
dark  in  the  Fifth  Street  market,  together  with  many  other 
Confederate  sympathizers  from  various  parts  of  the  city,  and 
began  to  bombard  us  with  the  rockets. 

“ Our  windows  were  open,  as  the  evening  was  very  warm, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  every  rocket  that  was  fired  was  aimed 
straight  for  a window  of  the  hospital.  One  came  square 
into  my  window,  and  would  have  set  my  bed  on  fire  had  I 
not  been  there  to  extinguish  it;  and  I suppose  that  it  was  the 
same  with  the  other  rooms  on  that  side  of  the  building,  for  I 
could  hear  the  boys  above  and  below  me  cursing  the  c cop- 
perheads’over  in  the  market.  Verily,  the  martial  music  on 
this  occasion  was  a prolonged  fantasia  of  profanity.  When 
some  of  our  boys  would  swear  exceptionally  loud  the  bogus 
Confederates  would  applaud.  This  only  enraged  our  boys 
the  more,  and  they  at  once  declared  war! 

“ One  of  the  boys,  by  the  name  of  Slaughterback,  had  the 
courage  to  call  the  boys  together  to  materialize  their  desires, 
and  the  lines  were  formed  immediately. 

“ Our  ire  was  aroused.  We  determined  to  vanquish  the 
enemy  as  quickly  as  we  had  the  balloon.  All  who  were  able 
to  walk  came  to  join  our  ranks.  Some  of  the  boys  hobbled 
out  on  their  crutches,  some  with  one  arm  in  a sling,  and 
others  with  so  high  a fever  that  they  could  not  have  rallied  from 
their  prostration  under  any  other  circumstances.  Each  one 
took  it  upon  himself  to  resent  what  he  considered  almost  a 
personal  insult.  I was  so  sick  that  I could  not  have  raised 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

my  head  on  ordinary  occasions,  but  the  stimulus  to  my 
weakened  nerves  was  so  great  that  I crawled  out  of  my  bed 
to  the  window  just  in  time  to  see  a battle  which  seemed  to 
me  more  magnificent  than  the  4 battle  above  the  clouds.’  It 
was  the  grandest  display  of  fireworks  that  I ever  witnessed. 
The  Roman  candles,  with  their  irregular  flashes,  gave  a glo- 
rious effect  to  a charge  at  night  by  men  so  weakened  that  in 
many  cases  they  were  scarcely  able  to  stand,  while  the  rock- 
ets well  represented  the  4 sky-scraping  shells.’ 

44  There  were  forty  of  the  boys  in  all  who  were  able  to 
4 rally  round  the  flag.’  They  had  no  guns — they  were  armed 
with  nothing  except  bravery  and  Roman  candles.  But  the 
enemy  were  still  worse  off — they  were  armed  with  only  Ro- 
man candles!  Of  course  bricks  or  clubs  and  many  other 
things  were  picked  up  by  our  boys  as  they  advanced  in  regu- 
lar line  of  battle  eager  in  their  obedience  to 4 F orward — March !’ 
from  Commander  Slaughterback.  On  they  went,  this  for- 
midable phalanx  of  forty!  The  enemy  were  greatly  superior 
in  numbers;  but,  alas!  they  were  men  who  had  run  from 
even  the  draft,  much  less  then,  a body  of  forty  trained  soldiers 
on  crutches ! A few  hurled  sticks  and  stones  at  the  regulars 
as  they  advanced  to  the  attack,  but  they  kept  a steady  step,  un- 
mindful of  the  contemptuous  thrusts  from  these  4 smaller  fry.’ 
44  The  main  line  of  the  enemy  stood  nobly,  in  the  hope 
that  they  might  rout  the  disabled  Federals  by  a flank  move- 
ment, for  the  latter  were  not  reinforced.  But  the  regular  step 
of  the  Federals  seemed  so  grand  and  undaunted  that,  it  being 
their  first  battle,  the  overwhelming  numbers  of  the  enemy 
stood  aghast;  and  when  the  Federals  hurled  their  first  volley 
of  miscellaneous  ammunition  at  them  it  was  the  4 most  un- 
kindest  cut  of  all,’  and  they  fled  in  dismay. 

44  So  closed,  simultaneously  with  Gettysburg  and  Vicks- 
burg, the  only  battle  of  the  war  which  heretofore  has  not 
been  described. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


575 


INCIDENTS  OF  THE  BATTLE. 

“ The  hero  of  the  battle  was  Commander  Slaughtefback. 
With  one  arm  in  a sling,  and  his  whole  body  weakened  from 
suffering,  he  kept  well  forward,  and  was  the  first  to  engage 
the  enemy.  As  he  came  near  the  scene  of  the  encounter  one 
of  the  enemy  bravely  advanced  to  meet  him,  and  with  a con- 
temptuous look  said : 

“ c If  your  arm  was  not  in  that  sling,  sir,  I’d  thrash  your 
cursed  impudence  out  of  you.’ 

“ Come  on,’  said  Slaughterback,  clapping  his  other  arm 
behind  his  back;  c tie  my  other  arm  where  it  is,  and  then  I’ll 
kick  you  clear  across  the  street  at  the  first  blow, you  insignifi- 
cant coward!’  Immediately  after  which,  the  fellow  beat  a 
precipitate  retreat. 

“As  I beheld  in  my  admiration  the  grand  charge  of  our 
boys  along  the  whole  line,  being  too  weak  to  give  the  old 
army  yell  of  triumph,  I eagerly  grabbed  my  crutch  and 
hammered  on  the  window-frame  with  all  my  might.  A simi- 
lar noise  came  from  several  of  the  windows  on  the  front  and 
side  of  the  building,  while  the  forty  who  had  gone  forth  and 
conquered  the  enemy  responded  with  a prolonged  cheer.” 

“As  the  battle  just  related  occurred  on  a very  proud  day 
for  the  old  flag,”  said  Dr.  A.W.  Gray, late  Adjutant  of  the  51st 
Illinois  Infantry,  “ let  me  give  the  result,  in  a few  words,  of  con- 
siderable research  for  the  true  origin  of  our  flag,  and  also  some 
points  in  regard  to  Washington’s  ancestors,  which  may  be  of 
interest: 

“ How  often  has  the  American  citizen  thought  whether 
the  design  of  the  United  States  flag  signified  anything  of 
itself,  or  was  simply  an  artistic  accident?  Some  have  one  ex- 
planation, others  another.  The  common  one  is,  that  the 
white  bars  typify  purity;  the  red,  the  blood  shed  for  our 
nationality;  the  stars,  the  individual  States,  ea^h  shedding 


176 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


luster  one  upon  another;  the  blue,  faith  in  the  strength  and 
perpetuity  of  our  government,  and,  like  the  azure  blue  of  the 
sky,  overshadowing  the  entire  land. 

“ But  the  true  origin,  and  the  one  now  generally  accepted 
is,  that  it  was  a design  offered  by  Gen.  George  Washington 
himself,  and  was  simply  a modification  and  enlarge- 
ment of  his  own  coat-of-arms.  It  is  a well-known  fact 
that  Washington  prided  himself  upon  being  a gentleman, 
as  the  term  is  understood  in  the  old  country;  and  that  he  had 
a coat-of-arms  emblazoned  upon  the  panels  of  his  carriage, 
embroidered  upon  his  book-mark,  and  engraved  upon  his 
watch  seal. 

“ The  first  Washington  of  whom  we  have  any  record  was 
one  John  Washington,  of  Warton,  Lancashire,  England,  who 
had  a son,  Laurence  Washington,  a London  lawyer,  who  was 
a partisan  and  favorite  of  King  Henry  VIII.;  who  moved  to 
Solgrave,  County  of  North  England,  and  was  Mayor  of 
Northampton  in  1533,  and  again  in  1546;  whose  epitaph 
and  coat-of-arms  may  still  be  seen  engraved  on  a brass  plate 
in  the  village  church  at  Solgrave. 

“ When  King  Henry  VIII.  seceded  from  Popish  rule  and 
established  the  Church  of  England,  he  confiscated  the  landed 
property  of  the  Catholic  Church  throughout  England,  and 
divided  it  among  his  favorite  followers.  To  Laurence  Wash- 
ington he  gave  in  1538  the  4 Manor  of  Solgrave,’  formerly 
the  property  of  the  4 Monastery  of  Saint  Andrews,’  North- 
ampton. He  also  gave  to  him  a coat-of-arms,  which  is  thus 
recorded  in  the  College  of  Heraldry  in  London: 

u ‘Arms — Argent,  two  bars  gules;  in  chief,  three  mulletts 
of  the  second.’ 

44 4 Crest — A raven,  with  wings  indorsed  proper,  issuing 
out  of  a ducal  coronet.’ 

“Which  being  explained  means:  Arms , a shield;  ar- 

gent, silver;  bars  gules,  red  bars;  in  chief,  the  top  part  of 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


X77 


the  shield;  mulletts , rowels  or  spurs  of  knighthood,  and  are 
represented  by  several  ^foe-pointed  stars;  crest,  the  orna- 
ment that  surmounts  the  shield ; coronet , a crown. 

“ This  coat-of-arms  can  yet  be  seen  engraved  on  the 
stone  over  the  gateway  of  the  4 Solgrave  manor  house,’  on  the 
brass  plate  which  marks  the  grave  of  Laurence  Washington 
and  his  wife,  and  also  on  the  plate  over  the  grave  of  his 
grandson,  Robert  Washington,  in  the  church  at  Brington. 

“ So  much  for  the  coat-of-arms;  and  now  a few  words  as 
to  how  the  Washingtons  happened  to  emigrate  to  America. 
As  before  stated,  the  family  were  pronounced  loyalists,  and 
when  Cromwell  was  made  Protector  of  England  he  beheaded 
Charles  I.,  the  King.  He  then  persecuted  the  royal  follow- 
ers, among  whom  was  John  Washington,  a great-grandson 
of  Laurence  Washington;  who,  to  save  his  life,  .fled  to 
America  in  the  year  1659  and  settled  in  Virginia,  where  he 
died  in  1675.  John  Washington  left  a son,  Laurence,  who 
died  in  1697,  leaying  a son,  Augustine,  who  was  the  father  of 
George  Washington,  the  first  President  of  the  United 
States — born  in  1732  and  died  in  1799. 

When  Congress  discussed  the  question  of  adopting  a 
national  flag  various  designs  were  submitted  for  adoption. 
Washington  drew  a design  of  a flag  which  embodied  the 
essential  features  of  his  family  coat-of-arms,  and  had  a Mrs. 
Ross,  who  kept  an  upholstery  establishment  in  Philadelphia, 
make  a flag  in  accordance  therewith.  The  raven  was 
changed  to  an  eagle;  the  stars  and  bars  were  increased  in 
number  to  one  for  each  of  the  thirteen  colonies,  and  the  blue 
was  inserted  as  the  natural  contrast  of  red.  The  crown  or 
coronet,  emblematic  of  royalty,  was  dropped.  This  flag  was 
the  one  adopted  by  Congress,  and  is  the  same  flag  that  waves 
in  triumph  at  Yorktown.  New  Orleans,  the  Citv  of  Mexico, 
and  Appomattox,  and  that  to-day  still  waves  4 o’er  the  land' 
of  the  free,  and  the  home  of  the  brave-’ 


178  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

“And  here  is  the  genealogy  of  the  ‘ Father  of  his  Coun- 
try’: (1)  George  Washington — the  first  President  of  the 

United  States — son  of  (2 ) Augustine,  son  of  (3)  Laurence, 
son  of  (4)  John  (knighted  by  King  James  I.,  and  who  came 
to  America  in  1659),  son  of  (5)  Laurence,  son  of  (6)  Rob- 
ert, son  of  (7)  Laurence,  who  was  twice  Mayor  of  North- 
ampton, and  to  whom,  in  1538,  King  Henry  VIII.,  granted 
the  coat-of-arms,  which,  240  years  later,  broadened  out  into  the 
national  flag  of  the  United  States  of  America. 

“ In  this  connection  another  interesting  fact  is  discovered : 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  of  Spain  aided  Columbus  to  discover 
the  continent  of  America;  Katharine  of  Arragon  was  their 
daughter,  and  was  also  the  wife  of  Henry  VIII.  King  of 
England,  who  gave  the  coat-of-arms  to  Laurence  Washing- 
ton. So  that  Spain  has  the  honor  of  not  only  discovering 
America,  but  also  of  having  a son-in-law  who  gave  her  s 
flag.” 


V 


CAMP-FIRE  XIV, 


A ROLLICKING  RECRUIT— LOVE  AND  WAR THE  S.  U.  H. 

SUTLER “ WHEN  GABRIEL  BLOWS  HIS  TRUMPET  IN 

THE  MORNING.” 

Jjp^OWEVER  lamentable  the  fact  may  seem  to  the  seif- 
Wm  styled  philosophers,  the  "chroniclers  of  these  chats  have 
the  cool  reflection  that  this  is  about  the  best  world  they 
ever  lived  in.  There  is  sufficient  evil  to  test  the  energies  of 
the  good ; plenty  of  black  clouds  to  make  the  sunshine  all 
the  more  enjoyable,  and  almost  enough  smiles — those  beau- 
tiful triumphs  of  good  will  toward  men — to  cheer  the 
melancholy. 

And  what  a blissful  thing  it  was  that,  notwithstanding 
the  soldiers  were  all  selected,  this  state  of  things  existed  in  the 
army ! * 

Humanity  was  pretty  well  represented  there,  abounding 
in  over  a million  distinct  specimens  all  told;  but  none  was 
more  praise  wortbry  than  the  “funny  man”  of  each  company. 
He  was  just  as  necessary  as  the  chaplain;  for,  while  the  lat- 
ter buoyed  up  the  sunken  spirits  of  the  soldiers  by  urging  an 
unfaltering  trust,  the  joker  played  upon  the  said  spirits  lat- 
terally  by  keeping  up  the  ridiculous  end  of  the  programme. 

Nothing  could  have  been  received  with  more  gratitude,  in 
the  dull  hours  of  the  winter  camp,  than  the  exhilarating  effect 
of  a real,  wholesome,  rib-shaking  joke;  and,  though  it  was  a 
little  severe  on  the  boys  sometimes,  yet  they  usually  recovered 
and  felt  well  over  it,  as  is  illustrated  by  Mr.  Wm.  A.  Craw- 
ley^ recollection  of  a comrade: 

179 


i8o 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


44 1 was  fortunate  enough  to  belong  to  the  ioth  Illinois 
Cavalry,  and  not  having  to  trudge  along  on  foot  like  the  poor 
infantry  men,  we  seemed  never  to  grow  weary,  and  were 
standing  candidates  for  anything  that  promised  entertainment 
for  man  or  beast,  while  our  opportunities  and  desires  for  gen- 
eral deviltry  and  wholesale  4 cussedness,’ were  without  any 
discoverable  limit. 

44  There  was  one  other  fellow  in  our  regiment — a pale,  slim 
youth,  who  enlisted  as  a recruit  in  1862.  He  had  a sad  ex- 
pression of  countenance,  but,  indeed,  he  was  not  sad — he  was 
only  meditating  on  some  new  invention  for  the  production  of 
mischief. 

44  Crawford  was  his  name,  and  as  soon  after  entering  the 
service  as  he  became  acquainted,  he  took  another  young  re- 
cruit by  the  name  of  Boyd  4 snipe  hunting.’  While  Boyd 
held  the  sack  in  one  hand  and  the  lighted  candle  in  the  other, 
Crawford  made  a circuit  to  drive  in  the  snipe. 

44  Five  minutes  later  Crawford,  having  put  on  a Confed- 
erate uniform,  charged  upon  Boyd  and  demanded  his  sur- 
render. But  alas!  Crawford  had  miscliosen  his  man.  Boyd 
was  a fellow  who  would  have  had  no  more  sense  than  to 
tight  a wrhole  regiment,  and  was  not  the  soldier  to  be  intimi- 
dated by  any  one  opponent.  No  sooner  had  Crawford  made 
the  demand  than  Boyd  stepped  up  to  him,  pulled  him  from 
his  horse,  and  began  beating  him  with  all  his  power.  How- 
ever, Crawford  finally  succeeded,  by  a great  amount  of 
4 moral  suasion’  and  apology,  in  persuading  Boyd  to  4 let  up,’ 
which  was  done  after  the  latter  thought  that  he  had  pun- 
ished his  inveigler  sufficiently,  and  peace  reigned  once  more, 
the  two  returning  to  camp  together. 

44  Crawford  felt  rather  sore  over  the  ill  success  of  his  first 
trick,  and  still  sorer  over  the  beating  Boyd  had  given  him. 
He  tried  to  bribe  Boyd  into  silence,  but  the  fellow  could  not 
be  bought,  and  the  truth  soon  leaked  out.  After  the  facts  had 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  l8l 

become  known  about  the  camp,  the  adventure  furnished  sport 
for  the  boys  for  a week  or  more,  or  until  something  else  took  its 
place,  which  was  not  long;  for,  notwithstanding  the  severe 
pounding  he  had  received,  which  kept  him  in  his  tent  for  a 
few  days,  Crawford  was  not  in  the  least  discouraged ; and 
while  he  was  recovering  was  just  the  most  opportune  time  to 
concoct  another  trick. 

44  But  before  he  regained  sufficient  stiength  to  carry  out 
his  project  he  received  a letter  from  his  sweetheart,  which 
moderated  his  immediate  plan  of  action  somewhat.  I called 
on  him  while  he  was  yet  convalescent: 

44 4 Bill,’  he  said, 4 1 want  you  to  go  to  the  sutler’s  and  get 
me  a ream  of  fool’s-cap  paper.’ 

44  4 Why,  what  can  you  possibly  do  with  so  much  paper?’ 
I asked,  knowing  that  his  family  were  all  dead,  and  that  he 
seldom  wrote  a letter.  With  a solemn  and  aggrieved  expres- 
sion on  his  face  he  asked  again,  in  reply: 

44  4 Will  you  go  if  I tell  you  what  I want  with  it?’ 

44  4 Yes,’  I said, 4 I’ll  go;  but  it’s  folly  to  have  so  much  pa- 
per lying  around.  You  don’t  expect  to  write  for  the  press, 
do  you?  ’ 

44  4 No,’  he  said,  holding  his  sides,  and  with  great  effort  sup- 
pressing a convulsion  of  laughter, 4 don’t  make  me  laugh;  I 
am  so  lame  yet.’ 

44  4 Well,  what  is  it?  ’ 

44  4 I’ll  tell  you.  I have  been  writing  to  a young  lady  in 
Peoria,  Illinois — as  fine  a girl  as  ever  admired  a brave 
soldier — and  she  complains  that  my  letters  are  too  short . I 
mean  to  write  her  one  that  will  satisfy  her,  if  it  takes  all  the 
paper  the  old  sutler  has.’ 

44  4 Oh,  well,  now  Crawford,  don’t  be  silly;  don’t  put  butter 
on  bacon.  Write  her  a reasonable  letter,  and  let  that  settle  it.’ 
44  4 No,  sir,  I’ll  string  it  out;  if  you  can’t  get  me  the  paper, 
some  one  else  will.’ 


182 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“ ‘ Oh,  I’ll  get  you  the  paper;  but,  boy  alive!  it  will  cost 
you  ten  dollars  the  way  the  sutler  charges ! ’ 

“ ‘ I don’t  care  if  it  costs  the  next  year’s  wages!  I’ll  write 
the  whole  ream  full  to  her,’  he  concluded. 

“‘All  right,’  I replied;  4 I’ll  go  for  the  paper.’ 

“‘Well,  here’s  the  money,’  he  said,  giving  me  a ten- 
dollar  bill;  ‘ and  keep  quiet  about  it — the  boys  have  one  too 
many  jokes  on  me  now.’ 

“‘All  right,’  I said,  and  started  off  for  the  sutler’s  place, 
feeling  confident  that  Crawford  had  given  me  sufficient 
money  to  buy  the  ream  of  paper  and  to  spare,  and  that  I 
would  soon  return.  But,  to  my  surprise,  I had  not  over-esti- 
mated the  sutler’s  price;  on  the  other  hand,  I had  come  con- 
siderably below  it.  The  miserly  old  sutler  wanted  fifteen 
dollars  for  that  ream  of  fool’s-cap!  I succeeded  in  getting 
him  to  reduce  the  price  to  twelve  dollars,  but  was  unfortu- 
nate enough  to  drop  some  remark  which  informed  him  that 
it  was  absolutely*  necessary  for  me  to  have  that  paper.  This 
settled  the  matter  in  the  sutler’s  mind.  He  would  not  fall  a 
cent  from  twelve  dollars.  So  I paid  him  the  price  and  took 
the  paper,  making  up  the  additional  two  dollars  from  my 
own  pocket,  but  said  nothing  about  it  to  Crawford.” 

[The  narration  of  this  transaction  is  probably  the  only 
proceeding  in  the  history  of  the  chats  that  was  attended  by 
misfortune;  and  the  error  was,  indeed,  practical  in  its  appli- 
cation, for,  very  unkindly,  it  directly  affected  the  S.  P.  U.  H. 
in  their  paper  supply.  The  society’s  own,  true,  integrant, 
reliable,  upright,  incorruptible,  open-hearted,  tender-corn 
scienced  sutler,  caught  an  idea  from  this  story ; and,  spurred 
on  by  the  promptings  of  avarice  in  the  human  heart,  he  con- 
cluded to  increase  the  cost  of  the  stationery — he,  whose  for- 
tune they  had  cherished  from  its  infancy ! whose  welfare  they 
had  spared  nothing  to  look  after  (when  it  occasioned  no  ex- 
pense)! whose  success  up  to  date  they  had  smiled  upon  with 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  1S3 

pride ! — he,  the  one  whom  from  all  the  wide  circle  of  the 
business  world  they  had  chosen  for  commercial  virtue!  Verily, 
Ingratitude  has  a stone  heart,  and  Mis-Fortune  is  often  clad  in 
gold.  It  was  not  the  extravagant  price  per  ream  that  the 
society  must  pay  for  their  paper — current  price  of  which  is 
$2.oo@$3.oo — which  now  appalled  them,  but  their  annoy- 
ance was  that  they  must  hereafter  acknowledge  their  non- 
infallibility in  judging  human  nature.  Alas!  “ how  much  the 
heart  can  bear,  and  yet  not  break!”  But,  thankfully,  their 
presence  of  mind  returned,  after  which  the  society  bore  no 
ill  will  toward  their  sutler,  for  it  was  not  their  policy  to  allow 
the  phenomenon  of  bad  feeling  in  their  existence;  and  then  the 
sutler  was  a good  sutler — he  sold  many  good  things,  great 
among  which  was  bottled  good  humor.  So  that  the  station- 
ery question  was  the  only  one  to  be  dealt  with  now.  The 
society  once  more  reverted  to  history,  and  read  how  Sharon 
Turner  “ wrote  the  third  volume  of  his  4 Sacred  History  of  the 
World’  upon  paper  which  did  not  cost  him  a farthing,”  though 
he  drew  annually  a literary  pension  of  three  hundred  pounds. 
His  paper  consisted  of  “torn  and  angular  fragments  of  letters 
and  notes;  of  covers  of  periodicals — gray,  drab,  or  green  —writ- 
ten in  thick,  round  hand  over  a small  print:  of  shreds  of  curl- 
ing-paper unctuous  with  pomatum  or  bear’s  grease;  and  of 
the  white  wrappers  in  which  his  proofs  were  sent  from  the 
printers.  The  paper,  sometimes  as  thin  as  a bank-note,  was 
written  on  both  sides;  and  was  so  sodden  with  ink,  plastered 
on  with  a pen  worn  to  a stump,  that  hours  were  frequently 
wasted  in  discovering  on  which  side  of  it  certain  sentences 
were  written.”  The  S.  P.  U.  H.  remembered  all  this,  and 
concluded  that  they  had  read  history  to  too  good  a purpose 
not  to  “ wring  victory  from  defeat  ” in  the  present  emergency* 
At  once  they  hit  upun  a plan  which  possessed  two  advan- 
tages: One  in  giving  discipline  to  the  sutler  by  withdrawing 
their  patronage;  the  other  in  becoming  even  more  historic 


1 84 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


than  the  hereinbefore  mentioned  lord,  by  using  anything 
which  could  be  written  upon,  whether  paper  or  not.  Of 
course  this  scheme  gave  considerable  variety  to  the  material 
of  which  the  manuscript  should  be  composed,  the  same  in- 
cluding collars,  cuffs,  shirt  fronts, — a practice  held  over  from 
college  examinations,  when  the  students  were  accustomed  to 
write  the  answers  to  all  hard  questions  upon  their  cuffs  before- 
hand,— boot  soles,  leather  hat-bands,  the  smooth  side  of  bark 
from  neighboring  trees — anything  to  keep  from  buying  paper 
of  the  sutler.  Finally  the  crisis  came.  One  veteran  arose, 
and  spoke  loud  and  long.  The  society’s  notes  were  being 
made  very  full  and  complete.  The  speaker  grew  more  elo- 
quent, and  his  words  fell  faster  than  ever.  Every  pencil  was 
being  pushed  to  its  full  capacity.  The  manuscript  now 
consisted  largely  of  sticks  and  stones.  How  the  report  of  the 
speech  was  to  be  kept  together  could  not  be  considered  in  the 
present  state  of  high  nervous  tension.  Not  a word  must  be 
lost.  Then  rolled  forth  with  great  force  the  burning  syllables 
of  the  peroration,  at  a terrible  velocity.  What  could  be  done? 
Everything  available  for  stationery  had  been  used — even  the 
beautiful  hands  of  the  members  were  covered  with  notes! 
But,  ah!  the  society  must  not  be  overcome  by  circumstances; 
hence  they  hurriedly  called  up  the  camp-dog,  turned  up  the  in- 
side of  one  of  his  ears,  and  went  rapidly  on  with  their  labor 
of  love.  But  from  this  proceeding  another  difficulty  arose — 
misfortunes  again  came  in  a pair.  Everything  went  on 
smoothly  enough  until  the  society  began  to  collect  and  ar- 
range their  minutes  of  this  unfortunate  camp-fire,  when  alas! 
the  canine  had  fled,  with  the  notes  still  untranscribed  from  his 
ear;  hence  if  these  chats  seem  incomplete,  the  cause  is  hereby 
made  apparent.  Then  it  was,  to  be  sure,  that  the  society  be- 
ga-  to  feel  some  sympathy  for  the  poor  printers  who  must 
ntvJs  “ follow  copy.” — Furthermore,  notice  is  hereby  given 
that,  if  any  one  may  find  a camp-dog  with  “page  184”  written 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  1 85 

upon*  the  inside  of  his  left  ear,  a favor  will  be  conferred  upon 
suffering  posterity  by  returning  the  same  to  this  camp-fire. 
No  questions  will  be  asked,  nor  any  reward  paid,  as  that 
would  tend  to  accumulate  a stock  of  dogs  around  the  fire, 
which  proceeding  would  be  unhistoric,  inglorious  and  undesira- 
ble, except  when  rations  were  short.  And,  still  further,  be  it 
known  that  not  only  his  left  ear,  but  also  the  entire  lost  dog 
is  copyrighted,  and  therefore  cannot  be  used  for  anything  else 
until  the  expiration  of  twenty-eight  (28)  years,  at  which  time, 
it  is  thought,  he  will  be  valuable  only  as  a relic  for  the  museum 
of  the  S.  P.  U.  H.,  since  he  had  already  reached  the  age  of 
discretion.  ] 

“ As  soon  as  I returned,”  continued  Mr.  Crawley,  “ Craw- 
ford began  to  cut  each  deaf  of  4 fools-cap  ’ lengthwise  in  the 
center,  pasting  the  two  strips  thus  obtained  together,  then 
combining  the  double  strips  until  he  had  a string  of  paper 
seven  hundred  forty-six  yards,  two  feet  long,  when  he  began 
to  write.”  [This  letter  is  in  the  society’s  collection.] 

44  The  letter  discussed  a great  variety  of  topics,  and  was 
embellished  with  numerous  original  pen  etchings  intended  to 
more  fully  elucidate  the  various  subjects  discussed.  While 
he  was  at  work  on  this  lengthy  epistle  I frequently  visited 
him  in  his  tent  at  night.  One  evening  I asked: 

<c  4 What  do  you  think  the  postage  will  be  on  your  stack 
of  nonsense?’ 

“Upon  which  he  burst  into  an  uncontrollable  fit  of  laugh- 
ter, replying  that  he  would  not  allow  that  to  keep  him  from 
sending  the  letter  now,  after  he  had  spent  so  much  time  in 
writing  it,  and  preparing  the  illustrations.  He  paid  the 
postage  on  the  letter,  but  would  never  tell  me  how  much  it  was. 

44  Well,’  said  I,  44  I must  be  going  back  to  my  tent-^-I  also 
must  write  home  to-night.’ 

“ 4 If  you’ll  wait  a minute  I’ll  read  you  the  last  sentence  of 
the  letter.’ 


i86 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“‘  All  right,’  I replied. 

“ c Well,  here  it  is.’  Then  he  read: 

“ * * * ‘And  now,  my  dear  Angelica,  I can  tell  you  that 
I am  very  happy,  because  the  assurance  dawns  upon  me  that 
I am  near  the  end  of  my  paper;  and  I have  only  to  say  that, 
after  I have  been  through  the  usual  number  of  pitched  battles, 
long,  weary  marches,  and  narrow  escapes;  and  have  at  last 
completed  this  letter, — the  climax  of  all  my  toil  and  hardship, 
— if  you  are  not  satisfied  with  the  length  of  it,  I will  come 
home  as  soon  as  our  business  at  the  front  is  finished,  and, 
trusting  that  my  affection  for  you  will  have  increased  sufficiently 
to  warrant  our  marriage,  will  have  the  ceremony  performed; 
and  then  you  shall  obey  me  when  I order  you  to  assist  me 
in  writing  you  a letter  of  sufficient  length. 

‘Wearily  yours,  C.’  ” 

Mr.  Crawley  resumed:  “Sometimes,  when  we  were 

making  a forced  march,  day  and  night,  with  trouble  ahead  of 
us,  the  column  would  halt  for  a few  minutes,  to  allow  our 
trains  and  howitzers  to  ‘ close  up.’  We  generally  dismounted 
to  rest  ourselves  and  horses,  when  some  of  the  men  would 
throw  themselves  upon  the  ground;  or,  sitting  with  their 
backs  against  a tree,  with  rein  in  hand,  would  endeavor  to 
catch  a moment’s  sleep  before  the  shrill  notes  of  the  bugle 
sounded  the  advance. 

“This  was  Crawford’s  opportunity.  With  a large  tree 
branch  under  his  arm  he  would  rush  across  the  body  of  some 
sleeper,  stamping  his  heels  in  the  earth,  and  crying: 

“‘Whoa!  Whoa!’ 

“ Supposing  that  a horse  with  something  tied  to  his  halter 
had  broken  loose  and  was  running  over  him,  the  awakened 
soldier  would  jump  up,  throw  his  arms  wildly  about  him,  and 
sometimes  run  several  yards,  joining  in  the  cry,  before  realiz- 
ing the  farcical  situation,  when  he  would  return  rubbing  his 
eyes,  with  chagrin,  discomfiture  and  rage  depicted  on  his 
countenance. 


HALT  ON  THE  MARCH. 


1 88  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

44  Of  course  this  made  some  sport  for  the  comrades,  and  was 
not  always  consonant  with  the  feelings  of  the  victimized 
soldier;  but  pouting  in  the  army,  as  elsewhere,  proved  very 
unprofitable,  so  that  serenity  soon  prevailed  again.” 

Mr.  C.  F.  Matteson  then  related  this: 

44  The  regiment  to  which  I belonged  (17th  Illinois  In- 
fantry) spent  part  of  the  summer  and  most  of  the  fall  of  1861 
in  tramping  over  the  hills  and  through  the  swamps  of  South- 
eastern Missouri ; and  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  to  an 
Illinois  boy,  this  part  of  the  State  did  not  appear  quite  as 
near  to  Paradise  as  to  the  other  place.  The  regiment  was 
finally  stationed  at  Cape  Girardeau  for  winter  quarters.  Dur- 
ing the  winter  many  of  the  boys  fell  sick  with  that  great- 
est scourge  of  the  army,  the  measles.  Among  the  sick  was 
one  4 Bob,’  full  of  the  dryest  wit  imaginable.  Bob  was  very 
sick;  so  much  so,  that  we  thought  he  would  4 turn  up  his  toes 
to  the  daisies’ — a poetic  form  of  saying  that  one  was  going  to 
the  Great  Hereafter.  I was  a sergeant  in  his  company,  and  as 
such  it  was  one  of  my  duties  to  visit  the  boys,  and  in  cases 
like  his  to  learn,  if  possible,  what  disposition  they  wished 
made  of  their  personal  property ; also  to  take  any  last  message 
for  their  friends  at  home,  and  to  say  to  those  friends  that  Johnnie 
or  Jimmie  was  the  4 best,  most  faithful,  honest  and  obedient 
soldier  in  the  company,’  and  that  since  he  was  gone  we  did 
not  know  how  we  should  get  along  without  him,  etc.,  etc. 
As  Mark  Twain  says,  4It  soothed  them,’  and  did  not  hurt  us  at 
all.  Well  I had  received  Bob’s  4 last  will  and  testament,’ 
what  I was  to  say  to  the  boys  for  him,  bade  him  good-bye, 
telling  him  to  keep  a stiff  upper  lip,  that  I would  have  the 
whole  company  come  down  when  we  4 planted  ’ him,  which 
should  be  done  in  the  best  style,  and  started  for  the  door, 
when  the  nurse  called  me  back,  saying,  4 Bob  wants  to  tell 
you  something  else.’  I returned  to  the  cot,  and  inquired, 

44  4 Well,  Bob,  what  is  it?  Is  there  anything  else?’ 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  1 89 

“ ‘Yes,  Charlie,  I wish’ — and  he  spoke  very  slow  and  labored, 
with  a pause  after  almost  every  word;  — ‘I  wish  — you  — 
would  tell  — one  thing  more  for  me.’ 

“ ‘ Of  course  I will,’  I said  ; ‘what  is  it?’ 

“ ‘ I wish  you  would  tell  ’em,  when  they  plant  me,  to 
place  me  with  my  face  down,  my  head  to  the  east,  and  a clam 
shell  in  each  hand.’ 

“ ‘ All  right,’  said  I,  ‘ I’ll  do  it.’  Now  I knew  if  I did  not 
ask  him  why  he  wanted  to  be  buried  so,  it  would  be  the  death 
of  him  in  less  than  an  hour,  as  there  is  nothing  more  fatal  than 
an  undeveloped  joke.  ‘But  why  so,  Bob?’  I asked. 

“‘  Well,  I think,  Charlie,  if  old  Gabe  would  put  off  that 
horn  business  of  his  a reasonable  length  of  time,  I could  tunnel 
through  under  the  Mississippi,  and  come  up  from  Illinois,  for 
I’d  hate  like  h — 1 to  rise  from  Missouri.’ 

“ The  relieved  and  satisfied  smile  that  crept  over  his  tired 
face,  and  the  merry  twinkle  of  his  eye,  satisfied  me  that  Bob’s 
request  would  not  be  complied  with  then.  He  served  out 
his  full  term  of  enlistment,  and  still  lives  in  the  State  that  he 
was  so  anxious  to  rise  from.  I think  that  the  effort  saved 
his  life.” 


CAMP-FIRE  XV. 


THE  RACE  FOR  COLUMBIA — “ TO  AMPUTATE,  OR  NOT  TO 
AMPUTATE?” 

F all  the  various  organizations,”  said  Mr.  F.  Y.  Hedley, 
Adjutant  J2d  Illinois  Infantry,  A.  A.  A.  G.,  2d  Brigade, 
4th  Division,  17th  Army  Corps, — “ whose  united  effort 
preserved  to  us  nationality,  none  affiliated  so  heartily  or 
trusted  each  other  so  completely,  as  did  the  15th  and  17th 
Corps.  They  were  the  Siamese  Twins  of  the  army.  To- 
gether and  at  the  same  moment  they  came  into  being;  side  by 
side  they  grew  to  sturdy  manhood,  and  marched  and  fought 
until  peace  smiled  approval  upon  them,  and  fame  pro- 
claimed their  glory.  Their  regiments  had  gathered  at  Cairo 
in  the  early  days  of  the  struggle;  as  divisions  they  had  fought 
at  Donelson  and  Shiloh;  and  when  they  came  to  be  army 
corps  they  bore  their  full  share  of  the  hard  struggle  at  Vicks- 
burg. In  the  grand  movements  about  Atlanta  they  were  the 
whip-lash  of  the  army — snapped  hither  and  thither,  from 
flank  to  flank,  marching  by  night  to  reach  a new  vantage 
ground,  whereon  to  fight  by  day.  In  the  memorable  March 
to  the  Sea,  and  the  raid  through  the  Carolinas,  their  services 
were  most  conspicuous.  And  then  the  end  came,  and  they 
marched  proudly  side  by  side  down  the  streets  of  the  national 
capital,  cheered  by  all  Christendom. 

“ The  dramatic  brilliancy  of  the  achievements  of  these 
superb  commands  had  a fitting  counterpart  in  the  phenomenal 
ability  of  their  chiefs.  Grant  had  personally  commanded  these 
troops  before  their  organization  as  corps.  He  it  was  who 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  I9I 

gave  them  their  identity,  and  selected  their  commanders.  At 
first,  the  15th  Corps  was  led  by  the  brilliant  Sherman,  and  the 
17th  by  the  peerless  McPherson,  both  of  whom  were  speedily 
promoted,  giving  place  respectively  to  Logan  and  Blair,  who 
were  regarded  by  their  troops  with  admiration  and  affection. 
They  were  instinctively  recognized  as  conspicuous  types  of 
the  volunteer  soldier  whom  too  many  of  the  West  Point 
martinets  affected  to  despise.  Their  men  had  heard  them  on 
the  hustings  in  political  campaigns,  and  knew  them.  Logan 
had  fought  with  a musket  at  Bull  Run;  in  turn  he  had  com- 
manded regiment,  brigade  and  division,  and  his  magnetic 
presence  and  soldierly  bearing  had  given  them  confidence  in 
many  a struggle.  Blair  had  organized  the  free  soilers  of  St. 
Louis  while  Sumter  was  yet  being  fired  on,  throttling  rebel- 
lion in  Missouri,  and  saving  Illinois  and  Indiana  from  the  fate 
of  Kentucky  and  Virginia,  and  afterward  commanding  in 
the  field  with  courage  and  marked  ability.  The  great  prestige 
of  their  first  chiefs,  Sherman  and  McPherson;  the  conspicu- 
ous services  and  the  similarity  in  the  careers  of  their  later 
commanders,  and  the  coincidences  of  their  own  history  in  the 
field,  gave  to  these  commands  an  esprit  de  corps  and  a feel- 
ing of  comradeship  which  was  wonderful,  provoking  friendly 
rivalries  which  led  to  extraordinary  effort  in  battle  and  march, 
and  of  which  this  sketch  may  serve  as*an  example. 

“ Sherman’s  army  fay  grouped  about  Savannah  from  the 
occupation  of  the  city  a day  or  two  before  Christmas,  1864, 
until  the  middle  of  January,  1865,  when  a movement  upon 
South  Carolina  began.  The  14th  and  20th  Corps  and  a part 
of  the  15th  moved  by  land  to  the  vicinity  of  Beaufort;  the  re- 
in ander  of  the  15th  and  the  entire  17th  were  transported  from 
Thunderbolt  Inlet  by  water.  After  a sharp  engagement  a 
lodgment  upon  the  Charleston  railroad  was  effected  in  the 
vicinity  of  Pocotaligo.  January  30  the  march  for  the  in- 
terior commenced,  and  on  February  3 Mower  and  Giles  A. 


I92  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

Smith,  with  the  3d  and  4th  Divisions  of  the  17th  Corps 
effected  the  passage  of  the  Salkehatchie,  wading  and  swim- 
ming that  stream  and  its  indescribable  swamps,  in  the  face  of 
a fierce  resistance  by  the  enemy.  On  the  6th  the  15th  Corps 
was  at  Bamburg,  on  the  railway  between  Augusta  and 
Charleston,  and  the  17th  Corps  at  Midway,  a few  miles  further 
east.  To  this  time,  the  objective  point  was  unknown  to  the 
troops,  and  as  the  stations  named  were  about  equi-distant  from 
Augusta  and  Columbia,  there  was  much  conjecture  as  to  the 
route  to  be  pursued.  Four  days  later,  the  17th  Corps  crossed 
the  South  Edisto  after  a brisk  engagement,  and  on  the  12th, 
after  more  sharp  fighting,  Orangeburg  was  occupied,  the  15th 
and  17th  Corps  having  crossed  the  main  branch  of  the  Edisto 
about  the  same  time.  Then  it  was  realized  that  Columbia 
lay  in  the  line  of  march,  and  the  fact  was  regarded  by  the 
troops  with  unusual  interest.  They  recognized  Columbia  as 
being  of  a verity  4 the  hot-bed  of  rebellion,’  the  birthplace  of 
nullification  and  secession,  and  that  its  occupation  was  properly 
to  be  regarded  as  a triumph  more  significant  than  the  capture 
of  Richmond  itself.  These  views  were  peculiarly  current  in 
these  two  corps,  whose  route  was  evidently  nearest  in  line 
with  the  city;  and  the  men  of  the  two  commands  commenced 
to  observe  movements  with  a rare  degree  of  interest  and  ex- 
pectation. On  the  13th  all  four  columns,  pursuing  parallel 
roads,  were  headed  toward  Columbia,  about  forty  miles  dis- 
tant. The  17th  Corps  had  the  inside  line,  on  the  right  or 
Cawcaw  Swamp.  The  15th  was  to  the  left,  and  had  a some- 
what more  direct  route,  but  more  difficult  on  account  of  the 
passage  of  several  small  streams.  On  the  14th  but  little  dis- 
tance was  made,  both  these  columns  meeting  with  stout  op- 
position. The  15th,  however,  managed  to  forge  ahead  a 
little,  and  reached  a point  about  twelve  miles  below  Columbia. 
On  the  15th,  that  corps  was  sharply  engaged,  while  the  17th 
had  less  trouble  and  made  a march  of  fourteen  miles,  getting 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


*93 


well  in  -line  with  its  rival.  That  night  the  enemy  fiercely 
shelled  the  camp  of  the  15th  Corps,  wounding  a few  men. 

“ The  next  day,  February  16,  both  corps  broke  camp  early 
and  after  making  a march  of  twelve  miles  drew  up  on  the 
west  bank  of  the  Congaree  River,  just  below  the  confluence  of 
Saluda  and  Broad  Rivers.  On  the  opposite  side,  on  ground 
gently  sloping  to  the  river,  lay  Columbia,  its  wide  streets  and 
beautiful  buildings  making  a handsome  picture.  The  im- 
posing walls  of  the  new  capitol,  yet  unfinished,  rose  in  massive 
beauty,  and  near  it  stood  its  less  conspicuous  neighbor,  the  old 
capitol.  Up  the  river  a short  distance,  and  on  the  same  side, 
was  a water-mill,  which  proved  to  be  full  of  rebel  riflemen, 
who,  finding  a conspicuous  mark  in  a large  gray  horse  upon 
which  the  adjutant  of  the  32d  Illinois  regiment  was  mounted, 
fired  a volley  at  that  officer  while  he  was  engaged  in  forming 
a color-line.  Three  men  in  his  vicinity  were  wounded  by  this 
fire.  A few  shots  from  one  of  the  famous  little  Rodman 
guns  of  Clayton’s  1st  Minnesota  Battery  knocked  the  water- 
wheel to  pieces  and  set  timbers  a-flying  at  so  lively  a rate  that 
the  riflemen  tumbled  out  and  scampered  away  like  rats  from 
a burning  barn.  About  the  same  time  a battery  of  Parrott 
guns  threw  a few  shells  into  the  city,  and  dispersed  a crowd 
of  people  plundering  the  rebel  commissariat.  It  was 
while  these  events  were  transpiring  that  General  Sherman 
rode  up  and  examined  the  city  through  his  glass,  then  re- 
marking to  General  Belknap,  afterward  (Secretary  of  War) 
commanding  the  3d  Brigade,  4th  Division,  17th  Corps,  that 
he  4 would  appreciate  the  men  who  first  made  a lodgment  in 
Columbia.’  That  night  the  15th  Corps  passed  to  the  left  of 
the  1 7th,  under  orders  from  General  Sherman  to  effect  a cross- 
ing of  Broad  River,  three  miles  above,  and  enter  the  city  from 
the  north;  and  while  this  movement  was  in  progress  General 
Belknap  was  devising  a plan  for  carrying  into  effect  the  hint 
let  drop  by  General  Sherman. 

1.3 


194 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“ After  a conference  with  Lieut.-Colonel  Kennedy,  of  the 
13th  Iowa,  the  regiment  formerly  commanded  by  himself, 
General  Belknap  dispatched  a party  to  search  for  a boat. 
They  were  so  fortunate  as  to  find  a leaky,  rickety  old  scow, 
and  by  dint  of  all-night  hard  work,  under  the  superintendence 
of  Capt.  H.  C.  McArthur,  who  had  at  one  time  been  a car- 
penter, they  succeeded  in  repairing  it  to  such  an  extent  as  to 
make  it  tolerably  seaworthy.  About  10  o’clock  on  the 
morning  of  the  17th,  Lieut.-Colonel  Kennedy,  with  twenty 
men  from  his  color  company,  and  accompanied  by  Captain 
McArthur  and  Lieutenant  Goodell,  of  General  Belknap’s 
staff,  embarked,  and  essayed  the  passage  of  the  stream.  It 
was  a desperate  undertaking.  The  current  of  the  Congaree 
was  inconceivably  swift,  and  the  route  lay  across  dangerous 
rapids  which  would  have  deterred  less  determined  spirits. 
But  energy  and  courage  were  strong  in  these  gallant  men,  and 
after  several  narrow  escapes  from  wreck  on  the  rocks,  they 
landed  in  safety.  Ascending  the  slope  to  the  town  at  a 
double-quick,  at  a distance  of  a couple  of  squares  from  the 
river  they  intercepted  a rebel  officer  making  off  in  a buggy. 
The  officers  of  the  party  and  their  color-bearer  took  possession 
of  the  vehicle  and  drove  rapidly  toward  the  capitol  buildings, 
directing  the  squad  to  follow  at  the  double-quick.  When 
within  two  squares  of  their  destination,  Lieut.-Colonel  Ken- 
nedy and  party  were  fired  upon  by  a squad  of  W heeler’s 
Cavalry.  Seizing  the  only  gun  in  the  party,  Captain  Mc- 
Arthur jumped  from  the  buggy  and  fired  at  the  enemy,  now 
in  retreat,  unhorsing  one  of  their  number.  Waiting  until  the 
arrival  of  the  remainder  of  the  13th  Iowa  squad,  Lieut.- 
Colonel  Kennedy  went  on  to  the  capitol  buildings,  and  dis- 
played his  national  flag  from  the  old  State  House,  and  his 
regimental  banner  from  the  new  one.  He  had  been  in  pos- 
session about  an  hour  when  an  officer  of  the  9th  Iowa  from 
the  15th  Corps,  rushed  up,  colors  in  hand,  and  breathlessly 
asked  the  way  to  the  dome  of  the  old  building. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


l95 


You’re  too  late!5  hallooed  Captain  McArthur;  4 the 
17th  Corps  has  been  here  more  than  three-quarters  of  an 
hour ! 5 

44  An  expressive  but  impolite  ejaculation  was  the  only 
response.  A short  time  afterward,  Lieut.- Colonel  Kennedy 
missed  his  national  flag.  It  had  been  taken  by  a member  of 
the  15th  Corps,  but  was  restored  to  its  proper  owners  about 
a month  later. 

<4  To  return  to  the  narrative.  After  Lieut.-Colonel  Ken- 
nedy’s party  had  accomplished  the  passage  of  the  river,  a 
party  of  the  326.  Illinois  Regiment,  also  from  General  Bel- 
knap’s brigade,  boated  across,  and  proceeded  on  the  double- 
quick  to  the  city  hall.  The  color-bearer  was  sent  to  the  sum- 
mit of  the  tower  to  display  his  flag,  and  the  officers  in  charge, 
Adjutant  Hedley  and  Captain  Richardson,  remained  in  the 
mayor’s  office,  having  been  accosted  by  a citizen  there  who 
said  that  he  was  a councilman,  and  that  the  mayor  had  gone 
out  to  meet  the  advancing  troops  and  surrender  the  city.  In 
the  mayor’s  office  were  found  two  flags — the  rebel  stars  and 
bars,  made  of  some  coarse  woolen  stuff,  now  in  the  possession 
of  Adjutant  Hedley;  the  other  a silk  State  flag.  Captain 
Richardson  tendered  the  latter  to  General  Belknap,  who  de- 
sired him  to  retain  it,  which  he  does  to  this  day. 

44  While  there  is  no  question  of  the  first  occupation  of 
Columbia  by  General  Belknap’s  command  (3d  Brigade,  4th 
Division,  17th  Corps)  the  truth  of  history  demands  the  state- 
ment that  the  formal  surrender  of  the  city  was  made  to  Colonel 
Stone,  of  the  15th  Corps.  Major  Cramer,  of  the  30th  Iowa, 
of  that  command,  had  rafted  five  companies  of  his  regiment 
across  the  river  above  the  city  early  that  morning,  under  a 
heavy  fire.  He  drove  the  enemy  from  the  cutset,  capturing 
several  prisoners;  and  when  near  the  city  met  a carriage 
bearing  a white  flag  and  conveying  the  mayor  and  marshal 
of  Columbia,  who  tendered  a surrender  of  the  city.  Colonel 


196 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


Stone  soon  came  up,  and  a formal  surrender  was  made  to  him. 
He,  with  Major  Cramer,  then  entered  the  mayor’s  carriage, 
drove  to  the  city,  and  established  a provost  guard. 

44  The  part  taken  by  the  13th  Iowa  was  suitably  recognized 
by  Gen.  Giles  A.  Smith,  commanding  the  4th  Division, 
17th  Corps,  who  issued  an  order  reciting  some  of  the  inci- 
dents herein  narrated,  and  congratulating  Lieut.-Colonel 
Kennedy,  and  the  men  under  his  command,  upon  the  success- 
ful accomplishment  of  their  undertaking.  General  Sherman 
had,  however,  forgotten  his  remark  that  he  ‘would  appreciate 
the  men  who  first  made  a lodgment  in  Columbia.’  His  re- 
port acknowledged  the  formal  surrender  of  the  city  to  Colonel 
Stone,  and  only  incidentally  stated  that  4 about  the  same  time 
a small  party  of  the  17th  Corps  crossed  the  Congaree  in  a 
skiff  and  entered  Columbia  from  a point  immediately  west.’ 
But  even  this  had  escaped  his  memory  when  he  wrote  his 
4 memoirs,’  ten  years  later,  for  he  then  said  4 the  17th  Corps 
did  not  enter  the  city  at  all!  ’ ” 

Mr.  Sol.  R.  Smith  then  remembered  the  following  inci- 
dent, and  said : 

44  At  the  battle  of  Antietam,  a colonel  had  his  arm  pain- 
fully shattered,  and  he  was  borne  from  the  field  of  battle  by 
his  brothers  and  a private  soldier.  They  carried  him  across 
the  country  a long  and  toilsome  distance,  to  the  house  of  a 
Maryland  Union  farmer.  Every  step  of  the  journey  was 
torture  to  the  sufferer,  who  was  indeed  in  great  agony  when 
the  party  reached  the  house.  Then  came  the  ubiquitous 
Yankee  surgeon,  with  his  glittering  knives  and  cruel  saws, 
and  made  hasty  preparations  to  amputate  the  ailing  member, 
The  farmer  protested  vehemently,  declaring  that  the  man 
would  die  if  the  arm  were  cut  off.  The  surgeon  insisted,  as 
usual : 

44  4 The  patient  will  be  dead  before  to-morrow  night,’  said 
the  surgeon. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  I97 

No  he’ll  not]  replied  the  farmer; c I’ll  take  care  of  him 
myself.’ 

“ The  surgeon  again  insisted,  saying  that  he  had  no  time 
to  lose.  The  colonel’s  brothers  agreed  with  the  surgeon. 
There  was  about  to  be  a small  war.  Again  was  agitated 
that  great  semi-suicidal  question  which  was  discussed  so  prac- 
tically and  tragically  in  nearly  every  floating  hospital  of  the 
Civil  War: 

To  amputate,  or  not  to  amputate?  that  is  the  question: 

Whether  *tis  nobler  in  the  mind  to  suffer 
Th’  unsymmetry  of  one-armed  men,  and  draw 
A pension,  thereby  shuffling  off  a part 
Of  mortal  coil;  or,  trusting  unhinged  nature, 

Take  arms  against  a cruel  surgeon’s  knife, 

And,  by  opposing  rusty  theories, 

Risk  a return  to  dust  in  the  full  shape 
Of  man.  ***** 

“ But  the  determined  old  farmer  dispatched  his  son  on  His 
fleetest  horse  across  the  fields  to  the  other  side  of  the  mountain 
after  a country  physician,  who  was  a friend  and  neighbor,  but 
a rank  rebel. 

“ When  the  rustic  Esculapius  arrived  there  followed  along 
contention  with  the  Yankee  hewer  of  bones,  the  result  of 
which  was  that  the  arm  was  saved,  and  after  some  months  of 
careful  nursing,  the  colonel  galloped  off  to  join  his  regiment, 
a comparatively  healthy  man.  He  subsequently  became 
Governor  of  Ohio,  and  was  afterward  elected  President  of 
the  United  States  filling  the  office  with  credit.” 


CAMP-FIRE  XVI. 


“BRAZEN  EFFRONTERY” CORDUROY  ROADS LONG  jOHN, 

THE  DARKEY. 

OME TIMES  the  thread  of  human  life  is  stretched 
across  the  edge  of  swords  sharpened  variously ; some, 
times  it  is  sustained  by  very  little  more  than  the  shadow 
of  a circumstance;  at  other  times  it  is  held  together  by  only  a 
simple,  single  thought — unyielding  determination,  supported 
by  irrepressible  courage. 

One  incident  *was  related  at  this  camp-fire  by  Mr.  James 
M.  Allen,  Company  F,  2d  Illinois  Cavalry,  in  which  “un- 
bridled audacity”  saved  the  lives  of  four  soldiers: 

“ While  Lee’s  Cavalry  was  in  camp  in  advance  of  General 
Banks’  army,  at  the  commencement  of  his  Red  River  cam- 
paign, four  of  us  were  very  suddenly  placed  in  a peculiar  and 
dangerous  situation,  about  ten  miles  west  of  the  city  of  Alex- 
andria, La.  Like  all  the  cavalry  boys,  we  became  uneasy 
and  restless  from  our  inactivity;  so  we  took  a scout  on  our 
own  account,  contrary  to  strict  orders  not  to  go  beyond  the 
picket  line,  as  that  part  of  the  country  was  infested  with 
guerillas,  who  took  no  prisoners,  but  shot  men  down  without 
remorse.  Hence,  to  accomplish  our  intent  we  evaded  the 
pickets  and  went  north  toward  Red  River  until  we  struck 
a corduroy  road  which  ran  parallel  with  the  river,  crossing 
a swamp  and  a bayou.  When  we  reached  this  road  we  ob- 
served that  a larger  force  of  horsemen  had  recently  passed  over 
it  going  east,  as  the  tracks  were  fresh.  It  is  very  natural  to 
shrink  from  a mysterious  danger,  hence  we  concluded  to  turn 

198 


200 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


back  west,  cross  the  swamp  and  return  by  another  road,  since 
we  knew  that  no  horse  tracks  in  that  vicinity  could  have  been 
made  by  the  horses  of  our  boys.  We  rode  up  to  within  three 
hundred  yards  of  the  bridge,  when  we  saw  seven  mounted 
rebs  standing  on  picket  duty  at  the  further  end.  They 
had  not  seen  us,  and  as  we  were  not  in  search  of  either 
gore  or  glory,  we  concluded  to  retrace  our  steps  to  camp. 
But  just  as  we  had  come  back  to  the  edge  of  the  swamp  we  saw 
approaching  at  some  distance  a large  force  of  either  rebel 
cavalry  or  guerillas,  who  saw  us  at  the  same  time.  Then 
came  the  4 rub.’  We  were  between  two  millstones,  but, 
happily,  the  one  stone  was  smaller  than  the  other;  yet  they 
were  both  stones,  and  were  rapidly  coming  together  to 
crush  us.  To  say  the  least,  we  were  in  a sorry  plight;  water 
and  swamp  on  each  side  of  us,  guerillas  and  rebel  cavalry  at 
each  end  of  us,  while  action  on  our  part  must  be  immediate 
and  certain. 

44  I held  the  command,  and  of  course  the  boys  looked  to  me 
for  direction.  4 Of  two  evils,  choose  the  lesser  ’ — this  flashed 
across  my  mind;  seven  rebel  cavalry  were  less  than  over  two 
hundred  guerillas,  so  we  wheeled  around  again,  put  spurs  to 
our  horses,  and  darted  forward  over  the  corduroy  roads 
for  the  seven  pickets  at  the  other  end  of  the  bridge.  The 
chances  were  desperate,  but  when  men  become  desperate, 
chances  soon  yield  to  the  superior  force. 

46  On  we  went  with  the  momentum  of  a whole  regiment. 
The  pickets  at  the  end  of  the  bridge  saw  us  coming,  and  also 
saw  us  followed  by  two  or  three  hundred  other  horsemen, 
whom  they  naturally  concluded  were  our  allies,  judging  from 
the  bold  front  which  we  presented.  We  took  advantage  of 
this  and  felt,  indeed,  that  ‘fortune  favors  the  brave.’  We 
dashed  forward,  revolvers  in  hand  ready  for  use,  with  a yell 
that  echoed  far  up  and  down  the  cypress  swamp.  The  terror 
we  inspired  by  the  rapidity  of  our  motion,  and  the  fierce  de- 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


201 


termination  which  we  carried  with  us,  needed  no  additional 
elements  to  convince  the  pickets  that  we  were  just  exactly 
what  we  appeared  to  be — four  desperate  men  supported  by 
nearly  three  hundred  (enemies). 

“ The  pickets  were  fierce-looking  fellows,  however  they 
may  have  felt;  and  they  seemed  to  have  had  no  idea  of  being 
intimidated,  so  that  immediately  upon  their  discovery  of  us, 
which  occurred  when  we  were  within  about  two  hundred 
yards  of  them,  they  formed  in  line  to  resist  our  progress,  and 
suddenly  presented  to  our  view  seven  of  the  ugliest  double- 
barreled  shot-guns  that  I ever  saw. 

44  After  this  achievement  any  preference  of  the  before-men- 
tioned evils  immediately  vanished  from  our  advantage.  Now 
it  was  take  the  one  evil  or  be  taken  by  it. 

44  4 Boys,  spur  up,’  I said  4 we  must  go  right  through  ’em, 
or  they’ll  go  through  us.’ 

44 4 On  we  go ! ’ returned  one  of  the  boys,  and  forward  we 
darted  with  a dash,  a splutter  and  a splash. 

44  Our  horses — trusty  fellows — seemed  to  catch  the  spirit 
of  the  occasion,  and  as  we  glided  along  my  voice  seemed  to 
become  all-powerful  as  I gave  out  the  solid  command: 

44  4 Surrender!  you  black  miscreants!  ’ 

44  We  were  then  at  one  end  of  the  hundred  and  fifty  foot 
bridge  while  they  were  at  the  other,  raising  their  guns  to  fire. 
But  our  speed  was  unchecked,  and  on  we  went.  When  we 
had  half  crossed  the  bridge,  we  flourished  our  revolvers  and  I 
yelled  again: 

44  4 Down  with  your  guns!  ’ and  they  obeyed.  4 Into  the 
river  with  them,’  I continued,  and  this  was  also  obeyed. 

44  What  a relief  it  was  to  us  as  we  saw  those  guns  pitched 
into  the  water;  and  when  the  splash  came  I tell  you  it  was 
the  most  welcome  sound  I ever  heard! 

44  There  was  no  time  to  lose,  however,  and  since  they  were 
all  mounted  we  ordered  them  to  wheel  about  and  put  spurs  to 


202 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


their  horses.  Two  of  our  party  followed  close  behind  them* 
covering  them  with  revolvers,  while  the  other  two  rode  among 
them  and  disarmed  them  of  their  sabers  and  revolvers. 

“ About  the  time  we  had  taken  the  last  revolver  the 
guerillas  behind  us  opened  fire  on  us  at  long  range.  Then 
for  the  first  time  our  captives  realized  that  they  had  suc- 
cumbed to  a grand  successful  piece  of  their  own  strategy,  and 
began  to  curse  themselves  for  surrendering.  After  crossing 
the  swamp  we  returned  to  camp  with  our  prisoners,  by  an- 
other road.  The  rebs  followed  us  hotly  right  up  to  our 
picket  line,  keeping  a constant  fire  in  our  rear,  but  doing 
no  damage;  and  we  returned  their  fire  with  about  the  same 
effect.  When  we  arrived  in  camp  we  turned  the  prisoners 
over  to  the  provost  marshal,  related  our  experience  and 
awaited  the  result,  fully  expecting  to  be  put  under  arrest  for 
going  outside  of  the  lines  against  orders.  But  we  escaped 
punishment;  I presume  the  general  thought  we  had  suffered 
sufficiently,  and  had  learned  a good  lesson.” 

Gen.  H.  H.  Thomas  then  said: 

“A  day  or  two  before  the  battle  of  Kriston,  N.  C.,  our 
pickets  near  that  place  captured  a suspicious  darkey,  who 
had  been  found  lurking  near  our  lines.  He  was  an  odd  speci- 
men, more  than  six  feet  tall,  lean,  ‘ lantern-jawed,’  with  a 
mouth  of  longitudinous  dimensions.  He  was  suspected  of 
being  sent  out  by  the  rebels  to  get  information,  and  was  kept 
at  General  Carter’s  headquarters,  where  he  made  no  end  of 
fun  for  us.  Our  talk  was  largely  of  General  Sherman, 
whose  advent  was  daily  expected  on  his  March  from  the  Sea. 

“ 4 Long  John,’  as  our  captive  had  been  christened  by  the 
Chicago  member  of  the  staff,  was  all  ears;  and  we  resolved  to 
play  a joke  on  him. 

*4  A rather  distinguished  looking  major,  serving  on  Major- 
General  Cox’s  staff,  happening  to  drop  in,  we  tipped  him 
the  wink  and  played  him  off  for  4 Old  Gump,’  asking  a thou- 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


203 


sand  questions  about  his  march,  etc.  Long  John’s  eyes  pro- 
truded like  huge  saucers;  and  when  we  introduced  him  he 
struck  a theatrical  attitude,  and  saluted  the  supposed  general 
thus : ' 

“ ‘ Why,  bress  de  Lor’,  Mars’  Sherman,  I’se  heerd  a heap 
’bout  you!  Dey  done  said  you  had  hawns.  Dey  done  said 
yo’  berd  come  clar  down  to  heer,’  (placing  an  immense  hand 
on  his  right  hip),  c Dey  so  feered  o’  you,  Mars’  Sherman,  if 
dey  heer  yo’  name  tree  hundred  mile  off,  dat  town’s  done  bin 
captured.’ 

“ We  all  shouted,  except  our  extemporized  General  Sher- 
man, who  took  it  all  as  stoically  as  the  great  chieftain  himself 
would  have  done. 

“ We  became  satisfied  of  the  loyalty  of  our  altitudinous 
darkey,  and  released  him.  When  General  Sherman  joined  us 
at  Goldsboro,  we  related  the  incident  to  him,  and  he  was 
greatly  amused,  replying  that  it  was  the  neatest  compliment 
he  had  ever  received.” 


CAMP-FIRE  XVII. 


LAZY  JIM’S  STRATAGEM  TO  AVOID  WALKING  BACK  TO 
CAMP — “ THEY  GOT  OUR  FLAG” ANECDOTE  OF  GEN- 

ERAL SHERMAN. 

ITH  the  kindling  of  the  fagots  of  this  camp-fire  the 
boys  assembled  in  a goodly  number,  and,  chatting 
with  those  he  knew,  the  scribe  of  the  S.  P.  U.  H. 
appeared  also,  pencil  in  hand,  as  eager  as  ever  for  the  spirit 
to  startle  the  veterans  into  active  endeavors.  The  social  at- 
mosphere was  just  as  genial,  pleasant,  and  unruffled  as  ever, 
save  by  the  memory  of  the  drum  corps  from  the  Freedmen’s 
Exodus  Society.  It  is  an  old  saying  that  if  you  speak  of  a 
certain  evil  individual,  some  of  his  emissaries  will  appear. 
But,  without  even  hinting  that  the  application  is  practical  to 
the  case  in  hand,  it  may  as  well  be  acknowledged  that,  after 
the  camp  had  received  a communication  announcing  the  re- 
turn of  the  said  corps,  the  commander  suggested  that  a change 
of  scenery  might  be  pleasant,  and  even  expedient.  The  sug- 
gestion was  adopted  without  delay;  and  when  the  drum  corps 
arrived  they  beheld,  instead  of  the  jolly  camp-fire  that  had 
greeted  them  on  their  previous  visit,  a scene  similar  to  the  ap- 
pearance of  a camp  that  had  been  made  by  the  almost  tradi- 
tional “ Forty-Niners,”  on  their  way  to  the  gold  fields  of  the 
Pacific  slope. 

On  the  other  hand,  with  their  usually  rapid  method  of 
doing  things,  the  veterans  and  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  accomplished 
the  change  of  camp  to  a secret  place  in  a very  short  while, 
and  all  fear  was  then  allayed.  Once  more  everybody  lent  a 

204 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 


205 


smile  and  a hearty  hand  clasp  to  his  comrade,  and  amid  the 
crackling  of  the  twigs  and  branches  which  the  ruddy  flames 
were  devouring,  many  a jest  caused  a laugh  to  go  round.  It 
was  pleasant  enough  to  listen  to  the  witticisms  and  jokes,  but 
the  aforesaid  scribe  greatly  desired  a longer  story,  and  agree- 
ably to  a nudge,  a veteran  called  on  Leonard  Oliver,  13th 
West  Virginia  Infantry,  for  a yarn.  Taken  somewhat  aback 
at  the  invitation,  he  pleaded  forgetfulness,  but  a comrade 
prodded  his  memory  by  saying,  “ Tell  us  about  Jim  Frye, 
Leonard ! ” 

“ Well,  I can  do  that  if  you  want  to  hear  it.” 

“ Why,  of  course,”  responded  several. 

“Here  goes  then.  We  were  camped  at  Winfield,  W.  Va., 
and  we  had  a fellow  by  the  name  of  Jim  Frye  in  our  regi- 
ment, who  was  shiftless,  good-natured,  witty  and  — lazy. 
Partly  because  of  his  imperturbable  good-nature  and  partly  be- 
cause he  was  too  lazy  to  parry  the  attacks  made  upon  him, 
Frye  became  the  butt  of  all  the  raillery  and  fun  abroad  in 
camp. 

“ Well,  one  morning  some  of  the  boys  were  lounging  in  a 
store  near  the  suburbs  of  the  town,  discussing  the  probability 
of  the  truth  of  certain  rumors  afloat  to  the  effect  that  rebel 
spies  had  been  seen  about  the  outskirts  of  the  camp,  and  that 
various  depredations  had  been  committed,  in  which  smaf 
stock  and  poultry  had  suffered  to  an  alarming  extent. 

“ During  the  discussion,  Frye,  who  sat  astride  of  the  coa’ 
box,  whittling  and  spitting  at  the  shavings  he  made,  kept  a 
remarkable  silence,  all  the  while  eying  the  floor  meditatively, 
as  if  he  had  never  considered  the  fact  that  pork  meant  ham. 
sausages,  4 fat,  salt  and  unctuous,’  and  fowls  meant  savory 
stews,  and  gravy,  and  various  other  luxuries  not  always  pur- 
chasable in  camp — though  seldom  wanting. 

“ One  of  Jim’s  good  qualities  consisted  of  being  a hunter. 
When  he  felt  like  it  he  would  sally  out  with  his  gun,  and 


20  6 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


seldom  returned  to  camp  without  having  bagged  some  game. 
The  air  had  become  thick  with  stories  of  the  rebels  and  their 
misdoings  in  the  country,  and  the  people  in  the  neighborhood 
were  in  a continual  state  of  alarm,  and  the  troops  were  kept 
wide  awake,  and  on  the  alert. 

“It  was  at  this  time  that  Jim  announced  his  intention  to 
his  comrades  in  the  store,  to  go  out  for  a day’s  hunt. 

“ 4 You  look  out,’  called  one  of  the  boys,  cor  you’ll  get 
nabbed  and  hauled  into  camp  here  for  a reb!  ’ 

“ 4 Dunno  as  I’d  object  to  that,  seein’  as  the  tramp  back 
allers  sets  hard  on  me  anyways,’  answered  Jim,  as  he  saunt- 
ered off,  and,  as  he  went,  a person  of  fine  observation  might 
have  noted  Jim’s  eyes  light  up  as  if  the  friendly  admonition 
had  suggested  a brilliant  idea  to  him. 

44  It  was  a bright  day  in  February,  and  patches  of  snow 
gleamed  and  sparkled  in  the  sunlight  here  and  there  upon  the 
hills;  the  air  was  bracing  and  almost  chilly,  but  the  warmth 
of  the  sunshine  bespoke  soft  ground  and  mud  later  in  the  day. 
Soft  fleecy  clouds,  lovely  in  their  white  repose,  floated  in  the 
blue  heavens,  and  rested  lovingly  against  the  great  silent 
hills. 

“Jim  had  a great  deal  of  what  we  fellows  dubbed  4 poetry 
of  nature,’  and  he  was  not  altogether  blind  as  a bat  to  the 
beauty  around  him.  Indeed,  the  day  was  so  serene  and  de- 
lightful, the  forest  so  quiet  and  restful,  and  he  found  the  air 
so  exhilarating  that  he  wandered  on  many  miles  further  than 
he  usually  did,  in  search  of  game.  Once  down  to  work,  how- 
ever, he  had  no  end  of  luck  in  filling  his  game  bag.  True, 
the  quails  kept  provokingly  shy  of  him,  but  woe  unto  the  un- 
suspecting chicken  that  came  within  range  of  his  gun.  No 
matter  if  the  rabbits  did  go  skurrying  across  the  fields.  Jim 
solaced  himself  with  a ten-pound  gobbler  that  strayed  up  to 
him.  The  day  had  worn  pretty  well  along  when  the  vivid 
question  arose  in  his  mind  how  to  get  his  spoils  into  camp. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


20  7 


for,  as  he  had  averred,  the  ‘home  stretch’  bore  hard  on  him, 
and  his  indolent  nature  recoiled  from  the  exertion. 

“ At  this  juncture,  an  idea  occurred  to  him,  and  he  forth- 
with proceeded  to  put  it  into  execution.  The  contents  of  the 
game  bag  he  secured  in  a manner  intended  to  disarm  sus- 
picion, and  defy  inspection.  This  done,  he  set  out  for  the 

farmhouse  nearest  at  hand.  The  worthy  farmer  and  his 

boys  were  engaged  in  unloading  a cart  in  the  yard,  and  they 
eyed  Jim’s  approach  suspiciously,  a fact  which  Jim  noted  as 
being  propitious  to  the  furtherance  of  his  scheme. 

“ In  accordance  with  his  request,  Jim  was  taken  into  the 
house  and  regaled  with  ‘ a cold  bite,’  after  doing  justice  to 
which,  he  casually  remarked  that  he  was  a rebel  soldier,  and 
supplemented  his  words  with  the  startling  announcement  that 
the  Confederate  troops  were  within  six  hours’  march  of  that  lo- 
cality. He  also  dwelt  long  and  significantly  upon  the  harrow- 
ing fact  that  the  rebels  were  preparing  to  scatter  ruin  and 
desolation  through  the  country  and  lay  waste  the  farms,  burn 
dwellings  and  make  prisoners  of  the  farmers  themselves. 

“Jim  was  not  slow  to  discover  that  his  worcis  had  not 
fallen  unheeded.  Fear  and  consternation  were  depicted  upon 
the  faces  of  those  around  him,  mysterious  glances  were  ex- 
changed between  members  of  the  family,  and  faint  whispers 
betokened  suppressed  excitement.  Nothing  loth,  Jim  seated 
himself  before  the  fire  and  awaited  results,  which,  as  he  fondly 
hoped,  would  complete  his  scheme.  He  fully  expected  the 
farmer  and  his  sons  would  make  a prisoner  of  him  and  take 
him  to  camp,  and  as  hasty  preparations  of  some  kind  began 
in  other  parts  of  the  house,  he  felt  certain  of  success. 

“ There  was  flitting  here  and  there,  and  hurrying  back 
and  forth  through  the  chambers  overhead,  and  excited  con- 
sultations were  held  by  the  family.  He  found  it  hard  to  re- 
press a chuckle  as  he  waited  in  momentary  expectancy  of  the 
desired  arrest.  But  the  hours  grew  apace,  and  not  a finger 


208 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


did  the  patriotic  farmer  raise  toward  making  him  a prisoner. 
The  bustling  and  hurrying  about  ceased,  and  the  house  be- 
came suddenly  and  strangely  quiet.  It  was  unaccountable, 
and  Jim  concluded  to  investigate  matters  a little.  He  peeped 
into  several  rooms  and  finally  discovered  that  the  premises 
were  deserted,  and  it  dawned  upon  his  mind  that  the  whole 
family  had  given  him  the  slip,  and,  somewhat  crest-fallen,  he 
shouldered  his  gun -and  weighty  game  bag,  and  set  out  for 
the  next  house  to  try  his  joke  again. 

“ Upon  arriving  at  the  house  he  found  its  only  occupant 
was  a purring  cat  stretched  on  the  carpet  before  the  fire, 
while  the  disordered  condition  of  things  told  him  that  his  story 
about  the  rebs  had  preceded  him.  Jim  began  to  think  that 
his  little  plot  was  no  good,  and  by  the  time  he  had  gone  into 
several  houses  along  the  road  he  was  sure  of  it,  and,  tired  of 
stalking  from  house  to  house,  he  set  off  for  camp  across  the 
muddy  fields,  and  reached  there  before  4 drill.’ 

44  It  was  about  4 o’clock  in  the  afternoon  that  the  coun 
try  folk  began  to  pour  into  the  town  of  Winfield.  By  6 
o’clock  the  town  was  a stirring  mass  of  anxious  looking  men,, 
white  faced  women,  and  crying  children. 

“ Our  colonel  was  nonplussed.  He  had  made  several  at- 
tempts to  find  the  true  cause  for  the  existing  state  of  alarm, 
but  having  failed,  he  took  extra  precautions  and  doubled  the 
pickets,  all  of  which  had  a tendency  to  augment  the  excite- 
ment. All  that  could  be  extracted  from  any  of  the  coolest 
headed  of  the  citizens  was,  that  a suspicious  looking  character 
had  been  skulking  about  through  the  country,  and  that  he  had 
stopped  at  the  farmhouses  and  warned  the  people  of  the 
dangerous  proximity  of  the  rebels.  All  the  stories  differed, 
but  one  fact  was  noticeable,  and  that  was  to  the  effect  that  the 
description  of  the  suspicious  person  was  about  the  same  in 
every  instance.  The  mention  of  a pair  of  new  blue  over-alls 
conjured  in  the  Colonel’s  mind  the  image  of 4 Lazy  Jim  FryeJ 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


209 


“ Shortly  before  nightfall,  unlucky  Jim  put  in  his  appear- 
ance. He  looked  most  ‘aesthetically  weary,’  and  his  new  blue 
over-alls  were  spattered  with  mud  by  his  long  and  tiresome 
tramp;  moreover,  it  needed  no  second  glance  at  his  habili- 
ments and  accoutrements  to  make  sure  that  they  were  identi- 
cal with  those  worn  by  the  often  described  individual  who 
had  been  the  cause  of  the  present  alarm.  A new  light 
dawned  upon  the  Colonel’s  mind.  He  ordered  Jim  to  be  put 
under  arrest  and  brought  before  him.  The  farmer  who  had 
furnished  Jim  the  c cold  bite’  identified  him  as  the  self-avowed 
rebel  who  had  frightened  him  and  his  family  by  his  story 
about  the  rebels,  and  numerous  others  said  that  he  was  the 
same  man  whom  they  had  seen  in  the  woods. 

“Jim,  seeing  that  he  was  in  for  it,  confessed  the  truth,  and 
told  the  whole  story. 

“At  9 o’clock  the  detachment  of  cavalry  sent  out  to 
reconnoiter,  returned  and  reported  the  country  quiet  for 
miles  around.  The  citizens,  being  assured  there  was  no 
danger,  soon  wended  their  way  to  their  respective  homes, 
and  by  midnight  order  and  quiet' was  obtained. 

“And  Jim!  Well,  Jim’s  trouble  had  just  fairly  begun. 
Colonel  Brown  was  too  vexed  over  the  affair  to  allow  the 
offense  to  pass  unpunished,  but  bless  you,  you  could  never 
guess  the  manner  of  punishment!  It  was  this:  Every  day 

for  ten  consecutive  days,  at  dress  parade,  Jim  was  marched  out, 
accompanied  by  fife  and  drum,  and  after  being  assisted  to  mount 
to  his  shoulder  a hod  full  of  bricks,  he  was  required  to  carry  it 
up  and  down  before  the  line  of  men  six  times.  Jim  was  an 
overly  modest  chap  at  the  best,  and  to  be  so  made  the  cyno- 
sure of  all  eyes  was  too  much  for  him,  and  being  born  chron- 
ically tired,  too,  he  was  fearfully  cut  up  about  it. 

“ Even  at  this  late  day  I can  see  poor  old  Jim’s  abashed 
countenance,  red  and  streaming  with  perspiration  as  he  car- 
ried his  heavy  load  up  and  down,  keeping  step  to  the  inspir- 

H 


210 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


in g strains  of  the  fife  and  beats  of  the  drum,  and  I can  almost 
hear  the  banter  of  his  comrades  and  the  laughter  with 
which  they  assailed  his  ears. 

“c  There’s  nothing  like  serving  yer  country,  old  feller!  ’ a 
rollicking  friend  would  call  out. 

Well,  ’taint  all  honey  an’  pie,  mebbe,  but  Lordy,  the 
glory  of  it!  ’ Jim  would  reply,  and  so  it  went,  day  after  day, 
until  his  time  was  out.” 

“ That’s  one  of  the  ways  to  punish  a fellow  that  we  had 
too,  comrade  Oliver,”  said  one,  who  sat  on  the  other  side  of 
the  fire,  “ but  its’  nothing  to  being  c bucked  and  gagged  ’ for 
taking  a snooze  while  on  duty,  I can  tell  you!  ” 

“ By  the  by,”  said  another  veteran,  “one  of  the  most  heart- 
touching incidents  that  occurred  during  my  army  life  hap- 
pened with  a little  drummer  boy.  There  had  been  some  sharp 
fighting  and  General  McPherson,  among  others,  had  been 
killed.  We  had  been  hurried  to  the  field  expecting  to  take  part 
in  a great  battle,  but  we  didn’t  arrive  in  time  to  do  much  work, 
and  in  an  hour  or  two  we  were  ordered  back  to  camp. 
While  on  our  way,  the  captain  and  I turned  off  to  visit  an 
improvised  field  hospital  which  stood  among  some  trees. 

“ We  saw  a great  many  of  our  boys  who  were  wounded, 
and  among  them  was  a little  drummer  boy  who  had  been  in 
the  fight  and  had  had  his  leg  amputated  just  above  the  knee. 
The  chaplain  dismounted,  and  expressed  to  him  his  sympathy 
for  the  loss  of  his  leg,  and  tried  to  soothe  the  little  fellow’s 
feelings,  as  he  was  crying  bitterly.  In  reply,  the  little  hero 
sobbed  out: 

“ c Oh ! It  isn’t  that — that’s  nothing — I — I — don’t — I don’t 
care  so  much  about  that — they  got  our  flag  ! that’s  what 
hurts  me .’” 

As  the  last  words  of  the  speaker  fell  upon  his  hearers 
a quiet  pervaded  the  circle  about  the  fire,  and  more  than  one 
eye  glistened  with  unshed  tears,  as  the  full  force  and  power 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  21 1 

of  the  incident  made  its  way  into  the  hearts  of  those  who 
heard  its  narration.  It  seemed  as  though  a breath  from  the 
past  had  whispered  into  each  ear  a vivid  recital  of  the  fiendish 
carnage  and  brutal  cruelty  that,  like  a whirlwind  from  the 
innermost  regions  of  hell,  swept  over  our  fair  land;  and  each 
one  held  his  peace  and  seemed  conning  the  pages  of  memory 
where,  inscribed  in  characters  dimmed  by  the  blotting  fingers 
of  time,  were  many  a tale  of  bitterest  suffering  and  keenest 
anguish — many  an  incident  wherein  the  heroism,  that  only 
the  love  of  country  can  excite,  had  figured  in  bold  relief. 

The  silence,  however,  was  soon  broken  by  a battle- 
scarred  individual  who  carried  a musket  throughout  the  en- 
tire 44  unpleasantness.”  He  said,  44  The  only  time  I saw  Gen- 
eral Sherman  was  after  we  had  failed  to  break  Joe  Johnson’s 
front  at  Kenesaw  Mountain.  It  was  plain  that  more  flanking 
must  be  done,  so  the  4 Great  Flanker  ’ ordered  General  Cox’s 
division  of  the  23d  Corps  to  make  a detour  and  threaten  the 
enemy’s  left. 

44  This  involved  a long  march,  and  General  Sherman  made 
his  way  to  the  top  of  a high  hill,  where  we  were  lying,  to  en- 
able him  to  overlook  the  country  and  see  operations  better.  He 
sat  on  a stump  with  a map  spread  out  on  his  knees,  and  was 
giving  General  Cox  directions  as  to  his  line  of  march.  After 
doing  this,  he  mounted  his  horse  and  started  away,  but  after 
having  gone  away  a little  distance  he  shouted  back,  4 See 
here,  Cox,  burn  a few  barns  occasionally,  as  you  go  along. 
I can’t  understand  those  signal  flags,  but  I know  what  smoke 


means. 


CAMP-FIRE  XVIII. 


MA y‘r  WERE  CALLED,  BUT  ONE  WAS  CHOSEN A SAD  OC- 

CURRENCE — 44  LET  THE  DEAD  AND  THE  BEAUTIFUL 
REST.” 

ISSOLUTION  of  the  sacred  ties  of  the  family,  the 
severe  cutting  apart  of  those  tender  affections  which 
bind  the  child  to  the  parent,  and  t:  life  of  woe  and  in- 

satiable sorrow  which  follow,  are  among  the  almost  insuffer- 
able results  of  the  fierce  cruelty  of  war.  These  results,  too, 
endure,  notwithstanding  the  benefits  they  may  have,  and  their 
constancy  does  not  cease  when  soulless  governments  make 
peace  at  the  close  of  years  of  military  operations.  The  sad 
effects  are  felt  in,  alas!  too  many  American  homes,  even  at 
the  present  time — now!  twenty  years  since  the  war!  Twenty 
summers  have  shed  their  glowing  warmth  over  the  old 
battle-fields!  twenty  autumns  have  shifted  their  melancholy 
smoke  and  sunshine  above  the  sacred  cemeteries!  twenty 
winters,  with  their  chilling  snows  and  rains,  have  iced  the  tree 
boughs  that  droop  over  far  away  graves!  twenty  springs,  with 
their  cheering  bird-calls,  have  spread  their  smiling  floral  cover- 
ing, like  Charity’s  peaceful  mantle,  over  all  the  wide  country 
where  the  campaigning  was;  and  yet  the  heart  strings  then 
broken  will  remain  unstrung  until  the  soothing  hand  of  death 
shall  softly  entwine  them  for  all  time. 

The  verification  of  this  can  be  multiplied  many  times;  but 
only  one  specification  need  be  made  here — an  incident  by  Dr. 
Hard: 

44  The  battle  of  Williamsburg,  Va.,  was  fought  May  5, 

212 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


213 


1862.  It 'was  the  first  great  battle  in  which  our  regiment 
(the  8th  Illinois  Cavalry)  participated,  and  as  we  had  never 
seen  any  engagement  much  heavier  than  a skirmish,  of  course 
we  were  very  curious  to  observe  the  battle  carefully,  and  also 
to  go  over  the  battle-field  after  the  fight,  and  witness  the  deso- 
lation wrought.  In  going  over  the  field  an  incident  occurred 
which  was  of  such  touching  interest  that  I,  for  my  part,  never 
tire  of  remembering  it  as  among  the  pathetic  incidents  of  the 
war. 

“A  Massachusetts  chaplain  who  had  just  arrived  was 
among  the  ones  most  anxious  to  go  over  the  field,  and  in 
company  with  our  chaplain,  Reverend  Matlock,  soon  reached 
the  place  where  the  dead  were  being  arranged  in  rows  for 
burial. 

“ A detail  of  soldiers  were  bringing  the  dead  from  the 
woods  and  c slashings,’  and  laying  them  side  by  side  to  re- 
ceive the  last  sad  rite.  Other  soldiers  were  identifying  and 
marking  them  by  pinning  a card  or  slip  of  paper  on  the 
breast  of  each  corpse,  while  still  others  were  digging  the 
long  trench  in  which  to  place  the  bodies  that  were  to  be 
covered  from  sight  forever. 

“ The  Massachusetts  chaplain  informed  Mr.  Matlock  that 
upon  leaving  home  he  had  promised  Mrs.  Benson,  a widow 
lady,  that  he  would  look  after  her  boy,  Willie,  an  only  son, 
beloved  by  a Christian  mother  and  anxious  friends,  who  were 
awaiting  some  tidings  of  his  safety. 

“ 4 Can  you  tell  me  where  I can  find  such  a boy?  ’ asked 
the  Chaplain,  after  describing  him. 

Mt  What  is  his  regiment?’  asked  Mr.  Matlock  in  return. 

“ c I haven’t  been  able  to  find  out,’  responded  the  Chaplain. 

“ c Perhaps  the  regiment  you  seek  is  burying  the  dead 
yonder,’  suggested  Mr.  Matlock,  knowing  that  it  was  a 
Massachusetts  regiment  then  performing  that  office. 

“The  chaplain  was  now  in  a very  trying  position.  He 


214 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


hardly  dared  introduce  the  subject  to  the  soldiers  through 
fear  that  Willie  had  indeed  met  with  some  misfortune;  but 
mustering  courage,  he  asked  of  one  soldier: 

“ 4 Was  your  regiment  engaged  in  the  fight?’ 

“‘No,’  was  the  gratifying  intelligence  received  in  reply; 
4 we  came  upon  the  field  just  as  the  battle  closed.’ 

444  Well,’  said  he,  ‘I  have  promised  a widow  lady  to  look 
after  her  boy,  her  only  support,  and  the  comfort  and  the  pride 
of  her  life.  I almost  feared  to  ask  about  him;  but  knowing 
that  you  have  not  been  in  the  battle  gives  me  relief  and  more 
grace  to  inquire  further.’ 

44 4 Oh,  we  had  just  a little  brush  with  the  Johnnies,’  re- 
turned the  soldier. 

“‘The  true  presentiment  came  upon  the  Chaplain  like  a 
flash.  He  was  a strong  man  and  could  bravely  face  the  life- 
destroying  fire  of  the  enemy,  and  call  it  almost  welcome 
when  compared  with  the  severe  trial  through  which  he  must 
soon  pass.  He  turned  deathly  pale  as  the  soldier  spoke,  and 
it  required  a manly  struggle  to  control  his  feelings.  The 
knowledge  that  he  must  meet  the  anxious,  waiting  mother 
with  sad  news,  was  very  vivid.  How  like  a thunderbolt  it 
would  pierce  her  heart  with  a wound  that  could  not  be 
healed ! 

u As  the  Chaplain  hesitated  for  a moment  he  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  by-standing  comrades,  who  were  also  visibly 
affected ; and  as  his  cheeks  flushed,  and  the  tears  glistened  in 
his  eyes,  he  inquired: 

444  Then  can  you  give  me  any  information  of  Willie  Ben- 
son? That  was  his  name.’ 

44 4 Willie  Benson  ? Yes.  We  have  just  buried  Willie  Ben- 
son; he  was  the  only  one  of  our  regiment  who  was  killed  or 
injured!  ’ ” 

For  a reason  which  needs  no  interpreting,  the  chats  sud- 
denly ceased,  after  the  above  incident  had  been  related;  and 


GEN.  W.  S.  ROSECRANS. 


GEN.  GEORGE  CROOK. 


GEN.  B.  F.  BUTLER. 


GEN.  J.  A.  GARFIELD. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


2I5 


all  was  quiet  for  several  minutes,  until  a comrade  from  Com- 
pany F,  of  the  78th  New  York,  told  this: 

44  The  last  incident  has  reminded  me  of  one  that  occurred 
at  the  battle  of  Peach  Tree  Creek,  July  19  and  20,  1864. 
Our  regiment  was  in  the  fight,  and  about  half  an  hour  before 
the  close  of  the  firing  a shot  pierced  the  breast  of  J.  W. 
Gould,  one  of  my  companions,  and  he  fell,  breathing  his  last 
in  a few  minutes.  He  had  been  a favorite,  and  of  course  we 
could  not  retreat  or  leave  the  spot  until  we  had  given  him  a 
fitting  burial.  So  three  of  the  boys  and  myself  assumed  the 
sad  duty. 

44  We  carried  him  to  the  bank  of  the  stream,  laid  his 
body  upon  the  grass,  and  dug  him  a neat  grave.  When 
all  was  ready  a prayer  was  said,  we  lowered  his  body  and 
shoveled  in  the  earth.  Then  we  placed  a cypress  board 
at  the  head  and  planted  a weeping  willow  over  the  grave; 
and  when  this  last  rite  was  performed,  we  departed,  after 
singing : 

44  ‘ Let  the  dead  and  the  beautiful  rest; 

Make  his  grave  ’neath  the  willow  by  the  stream, 

Where  the  wind-harps  shall  whisper  o’er  the  blest, 

Like  the  song  of  some  angel  in  our  dream. 

“Oh,  so  voung and  fair, 

With  his  bright  golden  hair, 

Let  him  sleep,  let  him  sleep; 

Let  him  sleep  ’neath  the  willow  by  the  stream.*  ” 


CAMP-FIRE  XIX, 


A REMINISCENCE  OF  GENERAL  NELSON — A SHAM  BATTLE 
DEMOLISHES  A SUTLER^  STORE. 

PRIGADIER-GENERAL  I.  C.  B.  SUMAN  related 
an  experience  at  this  camp-fire  which  includes  a rem- 
iniscence of  General  Nelson  that  well  illustrates  the 
private  soldier’s  appreciation  of  the  difference  between  the 
officer  educated  at  West  Point  and  the  self-made  commander 
of  volunteers.  Said  he: 

“ I recollect  an  experience  which  may  be  of  some  use  to 
the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished  History.  At 
the  time  of  which  I speak  I was  Lieutenant-Colonel  of  the 
9th  Indiana  Infantry,  a regiment  as  reliable,  brave  and  prompt 
as  was  ever  mustered  into  service. 

“ We  had  just  come  from  the  mountains  of  East  Tennes- 
see with  the  rest  of  the  brigade, — the  other  regiments  being  the 
6th  and  the  41st  Ohio, — which  was  commanded  by  General 
Nelson. 

“The  General  had  left  the  navy  to  take  command  of  this 
brigade;  and,  technically  speaking,  he  was  well  fitted  for  his 
office,  being  thoroughly  versed  in  military  tactics,  and  he  also 
had  other  qualifications.  He  was  tall,  handsome,  with  black 
moustache  and  beard,  would  weigh  three  hundred  pounds; 
had  a keen  eye,  and  prided  himself  on  his  military  bearing. 
Moreover,  he  was  well  educated,  could  speak  seven  different 
languages;  but  withal,  he  was  arrogant,  and  especially  over- 

216 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


2l7 


bearing  when  he  was  in  liquor.  He  forgot,  like  many  another 
officer  in  the  Civil  War,  that  he  was  commanding  Ameri- 
cans; that  his  soldiers  had  volunteered  to  cast  their  lives  into 
the  balance,  that  the  nation  might  be  saved;  that  he  was 
ordering  around  men  who  could  think  as  well  as  himself, 
and  that  these  men  could  not  be  lorded  over  like  the  regular 
soldiers  who  were  compelled  to  serve  out  a certain  term 
of  enlistment. 

“ General  Nelson  was  right  in  his  purpose  to  enforce 
strictly  the  rules  of  war,  but  he  often  did  it  at  the  cost  of  re- 
spect from  those  who  were  to  win  his  laurels  for  him.  No 
doubt  it  made  him  angry  to  see  the  volunteer  soldiers  have  so 
many  privileges,  but  instead  of  submitting  with  at  least  an 
apparent  good  will,  he  attempted  to  ignore  these  by  the 
strictest  discipline. 

“Yet  he  had  his  favorites,  even  in  companies  and  regi- 
ments. He  dressed  well  himself,  prided  himself  somewhat 
on  his  fine  personal  appearance,  and  naturally  had  more  ad- 
miration for  those  of  the  soldiers  who  kept  themselves  neat 
than  those  who  were  ragged  from  hard  fighting  and  rough 
experience.  It  must  not  be  understood  that  we  do  not  like 
to  see  soldiers  dress  well  (or  anybody  else,  for  that  matter), 
but  when  cannon  balls  are  cutting  men  down  by  the  scores,  and 
bullets  are  clipping  off  an  ear  here  and  a finger  there,  or  break- 
ing a bone  in  some  other  place,  it  is  no  time  for  a display  of 
silks  and  satins. 

“The  6th  Ohio  boys  dressed  well,  and  they  were  good  fight- 
ers, too;  but  their  good  clothes  had  been  furnished  in  part  by 
contributions  from  their  officers’  pockets.  It  was  not  possible  for 
all  officers  to  do  this,  on  account  of  not  all  having  large  bank 
accounts;  and  we  did  think  that,  after  we  had  done  our  best 
and  bravest  on  the  field  of  battle,  it  was  a little  hard  to  be 
the  subjects  of  untimely  remarks  because  of  our  clothing, 
which  we  could  not  make  better  in  any  degree. 


2l8 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“ We  had  no  enmity  toward  the  6th  Ohio  boys,  and  they 
appreciated  this;  but  when  the  superior  officers  would  dis- 
criminate against  us  because  we  could  not  make  as  much  dis- 
play on  dress  parade,  we  thought  it  a little  unjust.” 

General  Suman  was  requested  to  go  into  detail  somewhat, 
in  order  that  the  object  of  the  incident  might  not  be  misun- 
derstood; that  it  might  be  exemplary  rather  than  personal. 

“ Well,  to  return,  our  regiment  had  just  come  from  the 
mountains  of  East  Tennessee,  and  indeed,  were  a pretty  rough 
looking  lot.  In  accurate  observance  of  the  laws  of  war,  how- 
ever, General  Nelson  prohibited  all  petty  foraging  for  subsist- 
ence. So  I told  the  boys  to  be  cautious  about  violating  the  Gen- 
eral’s orders,  but  that  they  might  steal  all  the  chickens  they 
could  find,  so  long  as  they  did  not  get  caught  at  it,  and  you  may 
know  that  my  permission  was  more  literally  observed  than 
were  the  General’s  orders,  because  hungry  soldiers  must  be 
fed.  I believed  like  Napoleon,  that  the  quickest  way  to  con- 
quer the  enemy  was  to  live  off  of  them,  and  the  boys  heartily 
agreed  with  me,  because  this  was  the  most  satisfactory  and 
most  practical. 

“ Nevertheless,  the  boys  were  conscientious,  even  though 
they  were  soldiers.  It  is  not  necessary  for  one  to  lay  down 
his  manhood  when  he  takes  up  the  dress  and  arms  of  war: 
and  this  sentiment  was  never  better  illustrated  than  in  our 
Civil  War.  But  for  some  reason  the  graduates  of  the  mili- 
tary academy  failed  to  appreciate  this  fact,  General  Nelson 
among  the  rest.  He  could  hardly  be  taken  as  an  accurate 
type  of  this  class  of  officers,  yet  withal,  his  course  of  action,  in 
many  respects,  made  him  a good  illustration.  One  particular, 
however,  is  certain.  General  Nelson  imposed  a very  severe 
discipline  which  was  probably  the  result  of  his  college  train- 
ing. But  his  object  may  have  been  to  force  his  subordinates 
into  winning  greater  laurels  for  himself.  In  this  it  would 
seem  that  he  was  ambitious,  and  that  he  forgot  to  pat  men  on 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


219 


the  back  instead  of  in  the  face.  Although  from  the  navy,  he 
failed  to  realize  that 

Ambition  is  a fearful  ship  to  fight  with; 

It  tosses  man’s  imagination  up 
To  the  shaky  pinnacle  of  his  desires; 

Then  lets  him  fall  a flat,  insipid  thing, 

With  only  lax,  low  spirits  in  his  frame. 

It  takes  away  his  sleep;  it  both  consumes 

And  quickens  youthful  hearts,  which  thus  grow  good, 

Then  great. 

But  still  Ambition  yields  at  times, 

And  in  that  weakness  is  God-given ; for, 

When  Judgment’s  captain,  and  Obedience 
The  helmsman,  then  Ambition  is  compelled 
To  take  that  safe,  though  unsailed  stream  which  flows 
In  triumph  through  the  ocean  of  the  world — 

Clear  of  the  rocks  and  reefs  of  circumstance. 

Then,  with  a virtuous,  well-trained  crew, 

She  may  at  will  seek  her  desired  harbor. 

“ Also,  General  Nelson  was  very  watchful  to  be  sure  that 
his  orders  were  always  carried  out.  Yet  one  incident  oc- 
curred concerning  which  he  took  the  wrong  position.  As 
we  were  marching  by  a farmhouse,  about  4 o’clock  one 
afternoon,  two  of  the  boys  suddenly  concluded  to  have  chi-cken 
for  supper  that  night,  as  there  were  a large  number  of  fine 
ones  in  the  barn-yard.  The  boys  remembered  my  permission, 
and  also  remembered  the  caution  about  the  General’s  orders. 
Hence  they  thought  it  best  to  buy  the  chickens  this  time,  pro- 
vided they  could  succeed  in  making  the  proper  kind  of  bargain. 

“ Leaving  the  ranks,  they  approached  the  house  and  in- 
quired of  the  lady  who  met  them  at  the  door: 

“ c Have  you  any  chickens  for  sale?  ’ 

“ The  woman  happened  to  be  of  Southern  sympathy,  and 
of  course  very  radical;  so  she  replied: 

No!  I don’c  sell  no  chickens  to  Yankees.’ 

“ 4 Wait  till  Yankees  try  to  buy  ’em,  madam,’  returned 


220 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


one  of  the  boys;  4 we  simply  wanted  to  know  whether  you 
wished  to  sell  a few  of  your  fowls.’ 

44  4 No!  I don’t  sell  no  chickens  to  Yankees,’  repeated  the 
woman. 

44  Knowing  that  coffee  was  scarce,  the  soldier  concluded 
to  tempt  the  lady  with  some  real  genuine  coffee  in  a trade. 
Hence  he  ventured: 

44  4 Well,  madam,  how  will  you  trade  us  some  chickens  for 
Lincoln  coffee?”’ 

44 4 D-o-n-’t  know,’  she  replied  slowly,  with  a remarkable 
change  of  temper  visible  on  her  countenance. 

44  4 We  will  give  you  two  pounds  of  coffee  for  two  chickens,’ 
said  the  soldier. 

44  4 I’ll  do ’t  if  you’ll  give  me  three  pounds,’  replied  she. 

44  4 No,  we  can’t  do  it;  we  have  only  two  pounds  with  us.’ 

44  4 I’ll  do  it  fur  three  pounds,’  she  still  insisted. 

44  4 All  right ; we’ll  give  you  three  pounds  if  you’ll  come 
down  to  the  sutler’s  about  8 o’clock  this  evening,’  he 
agreed,  thinking  that  would  be  an  effectual  stop  to  any  fur- 
ther parley. 

44  4 ’Nuff  said — the  trade’s  done  made.  Whar’ll  I come?’ 

44  This  occurred  about  4 o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  and 
knowing  that  the  column  would  soon  go  into  camp,  the  soldier 
answered : 

44  4 We  will  probably  go  into  camp  in  a short  time,  not 
more  than  a mile  or  two  further  on;  and  when  you  come 
down  inquire  for  the  sutler  of  the  9th  Indiana  Infantry. 
We  will  pay  him  for  the  other  pound  of  coffee,  so  that 
it  will  be  ready  for  you;’  and  with  the  last  remark  the 
boys  took  their  leave  and  departed  on  their  way. 

44  Prompted  by  a desire  to  make  sure  of  her  due,  the  lady 
came  into  camp  some  half  hour  or  more  before  the  appointed 
time — sometimes  it  happens  that  suspicion  and  distrust  pre- 
clude honesty.  So  it  was  in  this  case.  Hence  the  fear  that 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


221 


she  would  not  get  her  coffee  made  the  lady  very  nervous;  and 
after  finding  the  sutler’s  place  she  concluded  to  satisfy  her 
eagerness  by  demanding  the  coffee  at  once. 

44  The  soldiers  were  delayed  and  did  not  get  into  camp  as 
early  as  they  expected,  the  result  of  which  was  that  the  sutler 
knew  nothing  of  their  agreement  to  have  the  pound  of  coffee 
delivered  to  the  woman.  Of  course  his  stinginess  would  not 
allow  him  to  part  with  a pound  of  his  goods  on  any  assurance 
that  the  woman  could  give,  so  that  great  disappointment 
took  the  place  of  her  great  expectations,  which  could  not  have 
been  otherwise  from  hasty  action;  and  she  was  so  enraged 
by  this  state  of  affairs  that  she  at  once  sought  headquarters 
to  have  the  soldiers  arrested. 

44  The  affair  was  reported  to  General  Nelson,  who  was 
equally  enraged  at  finding  his  orders  apparently  so  grossly 
disregarded.  He  ordered  the  immediate  arrest  of  the  soldiers, 
who  were  soon  found  and  brought  before  him.  They  were 
not  allowed  time  to  carry  out  their  part  of  the  agreement,  or 
even  to  make  restoration;  but  were  then  and  there  subjected 
to  the  discipline,  being  strung  up  by  the  thumbs. 

44  The  general  then  sent  for  me,  as  the  soldiers  belonged  to 
my  regiment.  He  held  me  responsible  for  the  disobedience, 
but  I determined  to  have  a fair  hearing,  so  that  when  he 
informed  me  that  the  soldiers  had  been  tied  up  by  the 
thumbs,  I at  once  protested. 

444 1 insist  on  their  punishment,’  said  he, 4 because  my  orders 
?nust  be  obeyed .’ 

44  4 1 think  there  is  some  mistake,  General,’  I replied,  4 and 
will  presume  to  suggest  that  the  boys  be  turned  loose  until  we 
can  inquire  into  the  matter,  at  least.’ 

44  4 1 insist  that  my  orders  shall  be  obeyed,’  he  returned. 

44  4 Very  well,’  said  I; 4 but  it  will  not  do  to  forget  that  you 
are  commanding  volunteers,  and  I beg  to  warn  you  that  it 
will  be  better  for  all  concerned  in  this  matter,  if  you  release 
the  soldiers  at  once.1 


222 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“ But  he  would  not,  in  his  condition  of  mind  at  that  time, 
consent  to  any  concessions.  I returned  to  my  tent.  It  was 
not  long  before  the  situation  of  affairs  was  understood  by 
nearly  all  the  boys  in  the  regiment,  who  were  much  irritated. 
They  determined  upon  the  release  of  their  comrades,  and  it 
did  not  require  much  time  for  the  practical  demonstration  of 
their  wishes.  A number  of  them  quietly  gathered  near  the 
general’s  tent,  and  each  prepared  to  assist  in  requiring  redress. 
One  of  the  boys  ascertained  the  general’s  exact  position 
and  reported  to  the  rest  immediately.  He  found  that  the 
general  was  lying  down,  so  that  a volley  discharged  at  the  top 
of  the  tent  would  do  no  damage  to  his  person. 

aTo  think  was  to  act.  The  volley  was  discharged;  and 
the  boys  were  not  careful  to  aim  precisely  at  the  extreme  top 
part  of  the  tent.  As  soon  as  the  general  comprehended  the 
situation,  to  do  which  required  no  great  extension  of  chro- 
nology, he  cautiously  slipped  away. 

“ Not  long  after  his  departure  three  or  four  bullets  pierced 
the  tent  at  various  points  three  or  four  feet  from  the  ground ; 
but  as  soon  as  it  was  found  that  the  general  had  virtually  sur- 
rendered, the  firing  ceased.  Some  explanations  and  retractions 
were  made,  after  which  the  accustomed  pomp  and  dignity  of 
camp  prevailed.  The  soldiers  were  unstrung  4 as  to  their 
thumbs,’  and  were  allowed  to  fulfill  their  agreement  with  the 
female  poultry  vender,  who  went  joyfully  homeward  with  her 
pound  of  coffee. 

“ We  marched  on  to  the  field  of  Shiloh,  where  we  arrived 
in  time  to  be  almost,  if  not  quite,  the  first  participants.  The 
battle  commenced  eariy  on  the  bright  Sunday  morning  of 
April  6,  1862 — a day  too  calm  and  bright,  after  the  previous 
few  days  of  very  inclement  weather,  to  be  desecrated  by  the 
harsh  sounds  of  war.  But  the  armies  did  not  stop  for  what 
they  considered  sentimentalism.  The  Johnnies  came  pouring 
right  down  upon  us  before  we  had  been  given  time  to  make 


THE  MORNING  REVEILLE. 


'324  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

our  toilets,  which  consisted  principally  of  shouldering  arms. 

“ My  regiment  was  in  the  front,  and  my  original  company, 
numbering  sixty-three,  were  thrown  still  further  forward  as 
skirmishers.  The  first  sharp  contest  had  ended,  and  many  of 
the  boys  lay  around  us  wounded,  dying  and  dead.  Then  the 
enemy  came  on  again.  We  stood  our  ground.  The  41st 
Ohio  regiment  was  in  our  rear,  and  the  6th  Ohio  to  our  left. 
The  shells  were  flying  thick  and  fast,  and  the  explosions  were 
frequent.  Things  in  front  looked  discouraging.  But  our 
boys  had  no  thought  of  retreating,  although  the  shrapnel  shot 
would  plow  through  us,  creating  real  terror,  and  bursting 
among  the  41st  Ohio  boys.  Of  course  this  compelled  them 
to  retreat,  which  left  us  without  support. 

“ It  was  now  only  8 o’clock  in  the  morning,  but  the 
mortality  in  our  regiment  had  been  fearful.  Thirty-four  out 
of  sixty  in  my  old  company  had  been  killed.  But  the  boys 
were  still  firm,  staring  death  in  the  face.  In  this  situation, 
General  Nelson  came  riding  by.  He  saw  the  boys  standing 
like  trees — some  fallen,  some  shattered,  some  untouched  and 
immovable ; and  he  could  also  see  the  desperate  expression  on 
their  countenances.  Ordinarily  this  would  have  stimulated 
the  general  to  anger;  but  this  time  he  could  do  nothing  more 
than  admire  the  firmness  of  the  boys  who  plainly  showed  an 
almost  uncontrollable  hatred  for  him.  But  the  general  pur- 
sued a different  course  from  harshness.  His  heart  seemed 
deeply  touched,  and,  as  the  old  man  passed  on  down  the  line, 
the  tears  trickled  down  his  cheek  as  he  spoke: 

“‘Ah!  volunteers  are  the  men  to  fight  after  all.  Believe 
me,  my  brave  boys,  I bear  you  no  ill  will.’ 

Three  cheers  for  General  Nelson!’  called  out  the  boys, 
after  saluting  him ; and  the  chorus  that  went  up  was  sufficient 
evidence  that  the  general  had  been  forgiven. 

“‘Hear!  hear!’  responded  the  general  when  he  thought 
they  had  cheered  sufficiently.  4 1 shall  give  the  9th  Indiana 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


225 


as  fine  colors  as  any  regiment  ever  had.  I do  this  in  order 
that  your  people  at  home  may  know  of  my  good  feeling  for 
you,  and  that  history  may  record  this  affair.’ 

“ And  true  to  promise,”  concluded  General  Sum  an,  “ after 
General  Nelson’s  death,  General  Crittenden  presented  us  our 
flag  in  behalf  of  General  Nelson  and  the  State  of  Kentucky.” 

“While  listening  to  the  previous  narrative  I was  reminded 
of  the  funniest  incident  that  came  under  my  observation  dur- 
ing the  March  to  the  Sea,”  said  George  Ellers,  113th  Ohio 
Infantry. 

“We  will  be  delighted  to  have  you  relate  the  story,”  said 
one  of  the  S.  P U.  H. 

“ It  was  this,”  said  comrade  Ellers.  “ There  had  been  a 
sutler  following  our  brigade  for  some  two  or  three  months, 
and  he  was  one  of  the  most  disagreeable  men  in  camp.  He 
used  every  artifice  to  take  advantage  of  the  boys,  and  never 
allowed  an  opportunity  to  escape  by  means  of  which  he  could 
rob  them  of  their  money.  It  was  just  after  the  battle  of 
Goldsboro,  back  of  Kenesaw  Mountain,  while  we  were  in 
camp,  that  a plan  was  concocted  to  prevent  the  odious  sutler 
from  doing  further  mischief.  The  scheme  was  to  have  a 
sham  battle,  and  in  the  melee  stampede  over  his  tent. 
Accordingly  the  98th  and  121st  Ohio  regiments  were  formed 
in  line  as  adversaries  near  by  the  sutler’s  tent,  and  the  rest  of 
the  brigade  stood  near  at  hand  as  spectators.  After  all  was 
in  readiness  the  121st  charged  the  98th,  and  drove  them  back; 
then  the  98th  sallied  and  pressed  their  adversaries  to  their  for- 
mer position,  after  which  the  98th  reformed  directly  in  front 
of  the  sutler’s  tent.  Immediately  the  121st  charged  again, 
and  came  down  on  the  98th  like  a whirlwind,  all  of  them 
yelling  like  demons.  The  98th  broke  and  fell  back,  and  as 
the  laughing,  yelling,  howling  mass  swept  along,  some  of  the 
boys  cut  the  ropes  of  the  tent  and  in  a trice  the  sutler’s  stock 
was  scattered  over  half  an  acre  of  ground.  Every  man  who 

15 


220 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


could  grabbed  some  article  and  made  way  with  it,  and  in 
less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  over  $3,000  worth  of 
goods  had  vanished  into  the  oblivion  of  haversacks  and  other 
secret  places. 

44  The  sutler  fought  like  a wild-cat  to  save  his  property. 
He  seized  a cheese-knife  and  made  savage  attempts  to  mutilate 
some  of  the  boys,  but  they  were  too  many  for  him.  They 
disarmed  him,  and  pushed  him  about  and  fell  on  him  so  inces- 
santly that  he  had  no  time  to  find  another  weapon,  and  when 
he  came  to  himself  he  was  five  hundred  yards  from  the  site  of 
his  now  ruined  store. 

44  The  shout  of  laughter  and  merriment  that  went  up  as 
the  joke  dawned  upon  the  spectators,  created  a perfect  bed- 
lam. Everybody  enjoyed  the  fun,  and  the  boys  of  the  98th 
and  1 2 1st  were  richer  by  some  thousands  in  the  way  of  com- 
modities and  camp  luxuries. 

44  The  result  of  the  sport  was  that  a search  was  ordered 
from  headquarters  for  the  stolen  goods,  but  not  a dollar’s 
worth  was  returned  to  the  discomfited  sutler.  I never  saw 
as  much  fun  crowded  into  five  minutes  in  my  life,  and  many  a 
time  have  I laughed  over  that  day’s  sport  with  some  comrade 
who  participated  in  the  charge  upon  our  sutler. 

“While  I have  the  4 floor,”’  continued  comrade  Ellers, 
44  let  me  tell  you  a little  anecdote  of  Capt.  Chas.  P.  Gorman, 
of  Co.  A,  and  I will  have  done.” 

44  All  right,”  we  exclaimed,  and  settled  back  into  a com- 
fortable position,  and  lighted  a Key  West  with  a burning 
brand  from  the  fire. 

44  We  were  before  Kenesaw  Mountain,”  went  on  comrade 
Ellers,  44and  were  on  a charge  against  the  enemy  across  an  open 
field.  The  fire  of  musketry  was  sharp,  and  the  bullets  were 
whistling  among  us  as  thick  and  fast  as  raindrops.  The  boys 
were  dropping,  and  the  line  was  fast  becoming  broken.  The 
situation  was  desperate.  The  field  was  fully  a half  mile  in 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  22*J 

width  and  the  chances  of  reaching  the  other  side  were  decid- 
edly against  us. 

~ 46  Cajtfain  Gorman  was  a German  and  as  brave  a man 
as  there  was  in  the  army.  His  fund  of  humor  was  inexhaust- 
ible, and  everybody  in  the  company  liked  him. 

“Just  at  the  moment  when  the  line  faltered  and  was 
about  to  fall  back,  the  captain  shouted: 

“ Vich  vould  you  rather  do  or  pe  in  yer  Taddy’s  haymow, 
poys?’ 

“ In  an  instant  the  humor  of  the  remark  was  caught,  and 
the  self-possession  of  the  boys  returned,  and  with  a hurrah  the 
line  rushed  on  until  it  occupied  the  position  to  which  it  had 
been  ordered.” 

Another  veteran,  upon  whose  face  the  light  of  the  flames 
fell  in  a pleasing  way,  remarked: 

“ I was  told  the  following  by  General  Scofield  while  we 
were  on  our  way  from  Wilmington  to  Beaufort:  ‘A  few 

days  after  our  troops  had  taken  possession  of  Wilmington,  a 
large,  good-looking  negro  made  his  way  into  my  headquar- 
ters one  morning,  and  asked: 

“ cIs  you  de  gin’ral  of  dese  people,  sah? 

“‘  Yes,’  I replied. 

“ ‘ Is  you  de  biggest  ginral  dat  is  heah,  sah? 1 
“cYes,  I think  so,’  I answered, ‘ what  do  you  wish?’ 
“‘Well  sah,’  continued  my  sable  inquisitor,  ‘when  we 
black  people  hearn  dat  de  Yankees  was  a cornin’,  we  knowed 
dey’d  be  a big  racket,  an’  me  an’  de  rest  of  us  moved  into  de 
swamps,  sah,  an’  dere  dey  all  is,  sah,  ’bout  fo’  or  five  hundred 
of  ’em.  An’  we  hearn  dat  de  Yankees  had  done  tuk  Wil- 
mington, an’  dat  de  ole  flag  was  up! 

“‘ We’s  mighty  anxshus  to  know  de  troof  an’  I’se  come  in* 
sah,  to  find  out  whether  it’s  so,  an’  if  it  is  so,  an’  you  had  come 
to  stay,  den  I’ve  to  fiah  a joy  gun,  sah!  ’ 

“‘Well,  we’ve  taken  Wilmington,  Sambo,  and  the  old 


228 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


flag  is  up,’  said  1, 4 and  we  have  come  to  stay  too,  but  what’s 
that  about  a joy  gun?’ 

44  4 Why,  sah,’  continued  the  negro,  4 if  eberything  was 
all  right  an’  de  ole  flag  is  up,  den  I was  to  flail  a joy  gun,  an’ 
dey’d  know  all  about  it  out  in  de  swamps,  sah,  an  den  dey’d 
come  in ! ’ 

44  4 1 think  I understand  you  now,’  said  1, 4 and  I will  have 
a j°y  gun  fired.’ 

44  4 So  I went  up  to  the  fortifications  and  had  one  of  the 
largest  guns  fired,  and  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  in  came 
a great  crowd  of  contrabands  from  the  swamps,  and  every 
mother’s  son  and  daughter  of  them  were  shouting: 

44  4 Glory !— glory ! de  ole  flag  is  up — de  ole  flag  is  up!15’ 


0 

CAMP-FIRE  XX. 

“ WHEN  THIS  CRUEL  WAR  IS  OVER  ” A CONTINUATION  OF 

CAMP-FIRE  XVIII A “ MULEY  ” YOKE  OF  “ MULEY  ” 

OXEN. 

Wi  AST  evening  but  one,”  began  Governor  G.,  “ the  in- 
mtf  cidents  of  the  camp-fire  reminded  me  of  a touching  ex- 
perience  of  which  I omitted  to  speak  at  the  time,  but 
with  permission,  will  give  it  now.” 

“ Let  us  hear  it,”  called  out  the  commander. 

“ Well,  to  begin,  I knew  Dr.  Hard,  who  related  the  occur- 
rence, at  the  battle  of  Williamsburg.  He  was  in  our  regiment, 
the  8th  Illinois  cavalry — which  was  the  first  to  enter  the 
village  of  Gettysburg,  on  the  day  previous  to  the  first  day’s 
battle. 

“ The  cavalry  were  always  far  ahead  of  the  infantry,  doing 
the  advance  skirmishing,  and  this  time  our  regiment  was  in 
the  extreme  front.  We  were  going  into  Gettysburg,  and  as 
we  came  nearer  to  the  center  of  the  town  we  could  see  the 
rebel  cavalry  receding.  Many  of  them  were  yet  scattered 
miscellaneously  about  the  streets,  but  all  were  clearing  them- 
selves from  the  vicinity. 

“ We  rode  on,  and  as  we  passed  the  stores  and  shops  we 
were  greeted  with  a warm  welcome  on  every  hand.  Women 
and  children,  and  men  and  boys  who  were  ineligible  for 
soldiership,  lined  the  streets  and  assured  us  of  their  most  heart- 
felt joy,  for  we  were  the  first  Union  soldiers  they  had  seen 
for  some  time. 

u Our  attention  was  attracted  to  a number  of  school-girls 
229 


230 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


who  apparently  had  just  come  together.  There  were  per- 
haps fifteen  or  twenty  of  them,  of  ages  ranging  from  ten  to 
fifteen  years.  Many  of  them  were  beautiful,  and  all  were 
good  singers.  It  seemed  to  me  as  though  they  made  not  the 
least  discord,  and  that  the  sweetest  music  I ever  heard  came 
from  their  lips  as  they  sang — the  first  time  we  had  ever 
heard  the  song: 

“ ‘ Dearest  love,  do  you  remember, 

When  we  last  did  meet, 

How  you  told  me  that  you  loved  me, 

Kneeling  at  my  feet? 

Oh!  how  proud  you  stood  before  me, 

In  your  suit  of  blue, 

When  you  vowed  to  me  and  country 
Ever  to  be  true. 

CHORUS. 

Weeping  sad  and  lonely, 

Hopes  and  fears  how  vain! 

When  this  cruel  war  is  over, 

Praying  that  we  meet  again!’ 

u After  passing  through  the  city  and  going  into  camp,  many 
of  us  returned  again  to  the  pleasing  surroundings.  The 
citizens  threw  open  their  houses  and  invited  us  in  to  enjoy  the 
full  privilege  of  their  homes.  On  every  hand  we  were  met 
with  the  most  cordial  reception.  Merchants  would  not  even 
take  pay  for  articles  of  limited  value  after  we  had  bought 
them.  Every  one  seemed  heartily  glad  to  assist  the  bold 
defenders  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes. 

“ Indeed  we  appreciated  this,  for  we  had  been  deprived 
for  a long  time  of  many  of  the  comforts  of  civilized  life,  and 
at  times  had  wanted  the  necessities,  not  to  say  the  deli- 
cacies; so  that  the  enjoyment  of  all  these,  coupled  with  the 
earnest  way  in  which  we  were  received,  could  not  fail  to  draw 
from  us  expressions  of  unalloyed  gratitude.  We  felt  that 
even  in  the  midst  of  war  there  is  tenderness;  that,  however 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


231 


fierce  the  battle  may  be,  the  heart  which  receives  the  blow 
and  the  one  which  gives  it,  may  then  or  at  any  other  time 
be  the  home  of  affection. 

“ Gratitude  brought  a tear  to  my  own  eye,  and  as  I looked 
around  to  see  the  expression  of  other  countenances,  I beheld  at 
my  side  an  old,  wicked,  gray-haired  man  weeping  from  very 
joy — a man  whose  heart  1 had  long  since  concluded  had  never 
held  many  feelings  except  those  kindred  to  cruelty.  This 
was  only  the  day  before  the  great  battle,  but  I can  tell  you 
that  even  this  short  relief  was  welcome.” 

“ Let  me  add  another  incident  to  those  already  given 
about  Sherman’s  famous  march,”  said  Mr.  C.  E.  Harden,  ad- 
dressing the  commander. 

“ Proceed,”  responded  His  Dignity,  and  Mr.  Harden  did 
proceed  thus: 

“ In  the  first  place,”  said  he,  “ the  country  through  which 
we  were  passing  produced  only  two  staple  commodities,  to- 
wit:  Bull-frogs  and  bad  roads,  the  two  being  in  almost  equal 
abundance.  There  were  also  two  other  things  similar  in  the 
purpose  of  holding  food,  namely,  our  stomachs  and  haver- 
sacks; and  at  this  particular  time  they  were  exactly  alike  in 
one  other  respect — both  were  empty.  Sometimes  a man’s 
appetite  suggests  a very  sudden  conclusion  about  going  to 
work  to  obtain  something  eatable;  and  this  was  our * exact 
cond!  ion.  So  comrade  John  Chandler  and  myself  at  once 
determined  4 to  see  what  we  could  see  ’ in  the  way  of 
forage. 

“ We  left  camp  at  day-break,  and  knowing  the  route  which 
the  column  would  take,  kept  well  to  the  right.  We  tramped 
all  day,  and  at  night  had  succeeded  in  becoming  the  possessors 
of  the  following: 

44One  cart  with  one  broken  wheel. 

44  One  and  one-quarter  bushels  of  potatoes;  size  of  same, 
Vz  to  inches  in  diameter. 


232  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

“ One  yoke  of  ‘ muley  ’ oxen. 

“ One  ox  was  red ; the  other  brindle.  One  had  lost  its 
tail.  The  red  ox,  being  the  afflicted  one,  seemed  to  be 
favored  by  nature  with  a very  small  horn  on  the  left  side  of 
its  head,  so  that  it  was  not  entirely  4 muley;’  while  on  the 
other  hand,  brindle  having  no  claim  to  a like  favor  from 
nature,  had  no  horn,  and  was,  therefore,  entirely  ‘ muley.’ 

“ It  was  an  odd-looking  team;  but  we  concluded  to  try  its 
strength  for  a few  miles,  so  we  loaded  our  potatoes  and  con- 
tinued our  journey.  The  second  day  added  the  following  to 
our  store: 

“ I.  One  rooster  too  old  to  crow. 

“ 2.  One-half  bushel  wilted  turnips. 

“ Late  in  the  afternoon  we  began  to  hunt  our  command, 
and  about  sunset  came  to  the  road  that  the  division  had 
passed  over,  but  found  no  other  signs  of  a soldier.  A short 
‘ council  of  war  ’ was  held,  after  which  the  line  of  march  was 
taken  up  and  continued  until  daylight,  when  we  came  to  a halt, 
fed  the  rooster  and  the  oxen,  and  breakfasted  ourselves  on  the 
‘pig-potatoes  ’ and  turnips.  After  a short  rest  we  again  pro- 
ceeded, arriving  in  camp  about  4 o’clock  in  the  afternoon. 

“ As  we  approached,  the  cheering  resembled  the  prolonged 
chirrup  from  an  excited  flock  of  geese.  All  kinds  of  exclama- 
tions were  heard: 

“‘Hurrah  for  the  muleys!’ 

“‘Kill ’em!  Kill ’em!’ 

“‘  Beefsteak  for  supper,  boys!’ 

“‘Give  us  some  ox-tail  soup!’ 

“ ‘ Old  brindle’s  horns  for  powder  flasks!’  etc.,  etc. 

“ When  the  noise  subsided,  the  commissary  sergeant 
ordered  us  to  report  at  headquarters  with  our  team.  We  did 
this,  received  a reprimand  for  being  absent  from  our  com- 
mand, and  our  oxen  were  inspected,  and  ordered  slaughtered 
for  the  good  of  the  regiment. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


233 


“ Within  fifteen  minutes  from  that  time  the  odor  from 
fresh,  tough  beef  emanated  from  numerous  frying  pans,  and 
ascended  to  the  evening  sky ; and  in  perhaps  thirty  minutes 
more  no  reminder  of  the  oxen’s  sad  fate  could  be  seen,  except 
the  iron  work  of  the  wagon,  the  wood  having  been  appro- 
priated to  replenish  the  various  camo-fires.” 


CAiviP-FIRE  XXL 


THE  GRAND  ARMY  OF  THE  REPUBLIC — NOT  A POLITICAL  OR- 
GANIZATION  ITS  PRINCIPLES:  FRATERNITY,  CHARITY, 

LOYALTY A COMPLETE,  BRIEF  RECORD  OF  ITS  OR- 

GANIZATION AND  GROWTH  TO  THE  PRESENT  TIME. 

HIS  camp-fire  was  devoted  to  delineating  the  practical 
part  of  those  magnificent  memories  which  have  resulted 
so  happily  from  the  comradeship  which  was  begotten 
and  made  strong  by  the  battles  of  the  Civil  War.  Dr.  A.  W. 
Gray  was  the  speaker,  and  said: 

“At  no  time  in  the  history  of  the  world  has  there  been 
an  organization  of  such  magnitude  as  this;  which  had  such 
sudden  growth  and  notoriety,  and  yet  of  which  so  little  is 
known.  As  far  as  known  there  are  no  official  records  of  any 
connected  history  of  its  origin,  rise  and  progress. 

“ It  is  not  strange  that  men  who,  for  many  weary  months 
and  years  had  shared  the  perils  and  fatigues,  the  weary 
marches  and  bivouacks  of  a soldier’s  life,  —who  together  had 
breasted  the  storms  of  shot  and  shell,  and  shared  the  priva- 
tion, suffering  and  hunger  of  the  prison-pen — should  desire  to 
keep  alive  the  memories  and  associations  of  their  army  life. 
History  informs  us  that  after  great  wars  it  has  been  in  all 
ages  customary  for  the  surviving  soldiers  to  form  associations 
to  preserve  the  memories  of  other  days.  We  hear  in  our  day 
of  the  associations  of  veterans  of  the  Crimean  war  and  of  the 
French  and  German  war;  and  in  our  own  country  of  the 
* Order  of  the  Cincinnati,’  an  organization  of  commissioned 

334 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


235 


officers  of  the  American  army  who  fought  for  national  liberty 
during  the  Revolution,  the  organization  to  be  perpetuated  by 
the  admission  of  the  oldest  sons  of  its  members  as  the  origi- 
nators successively  died.  We  have  also  the  veteran  associations 
of  the  war  of  1812,  and  the  war  with  Mexico;  but  none  can 
compare  with  the  G.  A.  R.,  whose  posts  may  be  found  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  and  from  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico. 

« As  to  who  first  originated  the  4 Grand  Army  of  the  Re- 
public,’ no  one  man  is  entitled  to  the  credit.  There  was 
nothing  original  in  it.  It  had  always  been  customary  for  sur- 
viving soldiers  to  organize,  and  for  a long  time  many  of  the 
old  soldiers  had  talked  the  matter  over.  The  war  was  over. 
A million  men — veterans  of  the  greatest  war  of  modern 
times — had  stacked  their  arms,  sheathed  their  swords,  and  re- 
turned to  their  homes  and  the  pursuits  of  a civil  life.  What 
more  natural  than  that  these  old  comrades  should  enjoy  each 
other’s  society,  and  should  wish  to  preserve  the  4 memories  of 
those  hours  of  trial  and  danger’  by  banding  themselves  to- 
gether, and  talking  over  the  old  times? 

44  Although  not  a matter  of  record,  it  is  an  admitted  fact 
that  the  State  of  Illinois  has  the  honor  of  the  G.  A.  R.’s  birth- 
place; and  that  B.  F.  Stephenson,  late  surgeon  of  the  izj.tn 
Illinois  Infantry,  was  the  first  man  to  organize  the  veterans 
into  an  association.  During  the  winter  of  1865  and  1866,  he, 
with  other  ex-soldiers  of  the  late  war,  being  at  the  time  in  the 
City  of  Springfield,  Illinois,  discussed  the  propriety  of  or- 
ganizing the  ‘veteran’  soldiers  of  the  State  into  an  associa- 
tion for  political  purposes — his  idea  being  that  the  soldiers, 
having  saved  the  country,  were  entitled  of  right  to  the  offices 
of  profit  and  trust.  It  was  decided  to  form  such  an  organiza- 
tion; that  it  should  be  a secret  society,  with  signs,  grips  and 
password.  The  individuals  present  took  an  oath  of  secrecy. 
A ritual  was  prepared  and  adopted ; also  an  initiation  cere- 


236  CAMP*  FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


mony.  It  was  aiso  decided  to  go  ahead  and  organize  posts 
throughout  the  State. 

“ Immediately  a difficulty  presented  itself;  they  had  only 
one  copy  of  the  ritual.  How  to  get  it  printed  without 
publicity,  was  the  question.  But  this  was  soon  answered. 
The  editor  of  the  Decatur  (111.)  ‘Tribune;’  as  well  as  all  of 
the  printers  in  the  office,  had  served  their  time  in  the  army, 
and  were  therefore  eligible  to  membership  in  the  new  society. 
To  each  of  these  the  obligation  was  administered,  and  they 
were  admitted  into  full  membership.  Four  hundred  copies 
of  the  ritual  were  ordered  printed  and  bound,  and  in  a few 
days  the  rituals  were  ready  for  distribution.  The  organization 
was  named, 

“THE  GRAND  ARMY  OF  THE  REPUBLIC.” 

“As  yet  not  a single  Post  had  been  formed.  On  the 
night  of  April  6,  1866,  in  the  Hall  of  the  ‘ Sons  of  Malta  ’ at 
Decatur,  Illinois,  was  organized  ‘ Post  No.  1 of  the  Grand 
Army  of  the  Republic.’  It  was  late  when  the  meeting  ad- 
journed, but,  full  of  the  spirit  of  the  occasion,  and  determined 
to  create  a sensation,  ‘the  Boys’  went  to  the  ‘Tribune’ 
office,  and  had  a number  of  posters  struck  off,  upon  which 
was  the  following: 


G.  A.  R. 


POST  NO.  1. 

DECATUR, 

APRIL  6,  1866. 



Gen.  Lucius  Fairchild. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


237 


“ Armed  with  paste-pot  and  brush  they  patroled  the  city, 
and  posted  these  dodgers  in  the  most  conspicuous  places. 
Upon  the  following  day  they  were  the  talk  of  the  town;  and 
such  was  the  birth  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic. 
The  organization  of  other  posts  rapidly  followed  throughout 
the  State.  Eagerly  the  veterans  enrolled  themselves  under 
the  new  banners.  Dr.  Stephenson  announced  himself  as 
commander,  and  issued  the  following  order: 

“‘Head  Quarters  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  ) 
Springfield,  III.,  June  — , 1866.  ) 

“‘The  undersigned  hereby  assumes  command  of  the  Grand 
Army  of  the  Republic.  Major  Robert  M.  Woods  is  ap- 
pointed Adjutant  General;  Colonel  Julius  C.  Weber  and 
Lieut.  John  S.  Phelps  are  appointed  A.  D.  C.  They  will  be 
obeyed  and  respected  accordingly. 

“‘By  order  of  B.  F.  Stephenson, 

“ ‘R.  M.  Woods.  Adjutant  General.5 

“ Soon  the  necessity  of  a State  organization  became  appar- 
rent;  so  Dr  Stephenson  issued  an  order  calling  a meeting  of 
delegates  from  the  different  Posts  to  assemble  at  Springfield, 
111.,  July  12 , 1866 . 

“ At  the  meeting  which  followed,  the  Department  of  Illinois 
was  organized  and  systematized.  John  M.  Palmer  was  elected 
Department  Commander.  New  Posts  were  organized  in 
other  States.  Dr.  Stephenson  by  common  consent  assumed 
the  duties  of  ‘ Provisional  commander-in-chief.5 

“ Observing  the  growing  popularity  of  the  organization, 
and  the  necessity  of  its  becoming  more  national  in  character, 
Dr.  Stephenson  issued  the  following  order: 

“‘Head  Quarters  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  ) 
Springfield,  III.,  Oct.  31,  1 866.  J 
‘“general  order  no.  13. 

“‘A  National  convention  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the 
Republic  is  hereby  ordered  to  convene  at  Indianapolis,  Indiana, 
at  10  o’clock  on  Tuesday,  the  twentieth  day  of  November 


238 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


next,  for  the  purpose  of  perfecting  the  National  organization, 
and  the  transaction  of  such  other  business  as  may  come  before 
the  Convention. 

“ 6 The  ratio  of  representation  shall  be  as  follows:  Each 

Post  shall  be  entitled  to  one  representative,  and  when  the 
membership  exceeds  one  hundred,  to  one  additional  represen- 
tative and  in  the  same  ratio  for  every  additional  one  hundred, 
or  every  fractional  part  thereof. 

“‘All  Department  and  District  officers,  ex-officio , shall  be 
members  of  said  convention.  All  honorably  discharged  sol- 
diers and  sailors,  and  those  now  serving  in  the  army  desirous 
of  becoming  members  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  are 
respectfully  invited  to  attend  the  convention.  All  comrades 
are  requested  to  wear  the  ‘ blue  ’ with  corps  badges,  etc. 

“‘Official:  J.  C.  Webber, 

Adj’t  Gen.,  Dept.  Illinois. 

“ ‘B.  F.  Stephenson, 

Com.-in-chief,  G.  A.  R.  U.  S.’ 

“ In  accordance  with  the  call  about  two  hundred  and  fifty 
members  of  the  order  from  eleven  different  States  assembled 
at  Indianapolis,  Indiana,  on  Nov.  20,  1866. 

“ The  meeting  was  called  to  order  by  Dr.  Stephenson,  and 
John  M.  Palmer  of  Illinois  was  elected  chairman.  The 
business  of  organizing  and  adopting  rules  for  the  government 
of  the  order  was  gone  through  with  in  two  days.  Stephen 
A.  Hurlbut,  of  Illinois,  was  elected  as  the  first  commander-in- 
chief, to  serve  for  one  year.  D*\  Stephenson  was  appointed 
adjutant  general. 

“ The  convention  adjourned  to  meet  again  at  the  call  of 
the  commander;  but  before  adjourning  the  following  ‘Reso- 
lutions’ and  ‘Platform  of  Principles’  were  adopted. 

“ ‘ We,  the  representatives  of  the  soldiers  and  sailors  of  the 
military  and  naval  service  of  the  United  States  during  the 
late  war  against  traitors,  reaffirming  our  devotion  to  these 
States,  the  Constitution  and  the  laws  of  our  country,  and  our 
abhorrence  of  treason  and  oppression, — 

“‘  Resolved \ First:  That  the  Grand  Army  or  the  Re- 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 


239 


public  is  organized  to  maintain  in  civil  life,  those  great  princi- 
ples for  which  it  stood  in  arms  under  the  national  flag;  that 
it  stands  pledged  to  crush  out  active  treason,  to  advance  and 
support  loyalty,  to  secure  sound  constitutional  liberty  to  all 
men,  and  to  vindicate  everywhere  and  at  all  times  the  full  and 
complete  rights  of  every  loyal  American  citizen, — against  all 
combinations  of  force  or  fraud  that  may  attempt  to  deny  or 
deprive  them  of  such  rights; — 

Second:  That  we  pledge  all  the  power  and  influence 

which,  as  individuals  or  as  an  association,  we  can  wield  legit- 
imately, in  the  most  especial  manner  to  those  gallant  men 
who  stood  fast  by  the  country  in  the  hour  of  its  agony, 
in  the  rebellious  States,  and  who,  through  all  manner  of 
losses  and  injuries,  persecutions  by  force  and  persecutions 
under  color  of  law,  maintained  their  integrity,  and  vindicated 
their  loyalty ; and  we  solemnly  declare  that  no  power  that  we 
can  use  shall  be  neglected  until  they  are  thoroughly  and  com- 
pletely protected  in  the  active  exercise  of  every  right  of 
American  freemen  through  the  entire  country  over  which 
our  flag  floats; — 

444  Third:  That  Congress  in  justice  and  not  in  cnarity, 

should  pass  a law  equalizing  in  a just  manner,  the  bounties  of 
all  Union  soldiers  and  sailors; — 

44  6 Fourth:  That  we  now,  as  heretofore,  pledge  ourselves 
to  use  our  best  endeavors  to  procure  appropriate  State  and 
national  legislation,  for  the  education  and  maintenance  of  the 
orphans  and  widows  of  our  deceased  comrades  and  maimed 
brethren,  and  to  enforce  a speedy  adjustment  and  payment  of 
all  lawful  claims  against  the  government,  due  soldiers  and 
sailors,  and  their  friends; — 

44  c Fifth:  That,  in  our  opinion,  no  man  is  worthy  to  be  a 

free  citizen  of  a free  country  who  is  not  willing  to  bear  arms 
in  its  defence,  and  we,  therefore,  suggest  to  Congress  the 
passage  of  a law  making  it  the  inexorable  duty  of  every 
citizen  to  defend  his  country  in  time  of  need,  in  person  and 
not  by  substitute ; — 

44 4 Sixth:  That  as  a matter  of  justice  and  right,  and 

because  the  sacrifice  made  and  dangers  encountered  by  the 
Union  soldiers  and  sailors  who  served  in  the  late  war  for  the 
preservation  of  the  country,  cannot  ever  be  fully  repaid,  we 
respectfully  ask  that  those  in  authority  bestow  upon  needy 


240 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


ana  worthy  soldiers  and  sailors  such  positions  of  honor  and 
profit  as  they  may  be  competent  to  fill;  and  while  we  seek 
nothing  for  ourselves,  or  those  of  our  comrades  who  are  able 
to  maintain  themselves,  we  do  earnestly  recommend  this 
request  to  the  consideration  of  those  in  authority.  And  we 
especially  ask  the  attention  of  the  President  to  his  policy 
heretofore  declared  on  this  subject.’ 

44  The  second  National  Encampment  was  held  at  Phila- 
delphia, Pa,,  Jan.  15,  16  and  17,  1868.  Delegates  from 
twenty-one  States  were  present.  John  A.  Logan,  of  Illinois, 
was  elected  commander-in-chief. 

44  At  this  session  a resolution  was  adopted  calling  upon 
Congress  to  enact  a law  which  should  allow  none  but  de- 
ceased U?tion  soldiers  and  sailors  of  the  late  war  to  be  buried 
in  the  National  cemeteries;  also,  to  enact  a law  whereby 
ex-Union  soldiers  and  sailors  should  have  the  preference  in 
appointment  to  positions  of  profit  and  trust. 

44  ORIGIN  OF  DECORATION  DAY. 

44  It  was  at  this  encampment  that  4 Memorial  Day 5 was 
instituted.  A resolution  was  passed  that  the  thirtieth  day  of 
May  of  each  year  be  designated  as  4 Memorial  ’ or  4 Decora- 
tion Dav,”  upon  which  day  the  members  of  the  G.  A.  R. 
were  to  decorate  the  graves  of  their  deceased  comrades  with 
flowers  and  evergreens;  and  General  Logan,  in  an  address  to 
the  encampment  spoke  as  follows,  concerning  it: 

44  4 To  keep  the  scenes  of  war  with  all  its  horrors  vivid 
before  the  mind,  without  some  still  more  important  motive, 
would  hardly  meet  with  the  approval  of  this  intelligent  age. 
It  was  to  keep  constantly  before  the  mind  the  cost  of  liberty, 
and  the  'price  paid  for  the  suppression  of  rebellion,  and  the 
preservation  of  a free  and  independent  Government;  to  keep 
forever  green  the  hallowed  memory  of  the  heroic  dead,  who 
had  fallen  to  save  their  country  from  disunion  and  dishonor. 
This  ceremony  is  but  an  external  expression  of  one  of  the 
great  principles  of  our  Order,  and  should  the  organization  in 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 


24.1 


coming  years  cease  to  exercise  its  functions, — I trust  that  the 
ceremony  so  happily  coming  from  it,  may  never  cease,  for  so 
long  as  it  continues  to  be  heartily  observed,  we  will  have  the 
assurance  that  there  are  loyal  hearts  in  the  land  that  cling  to 
the  integrity  of  our  Union,  and  condemn  treason  to  our 
Government.’ 

44 4 The  third  National  encampment  was  held  at  Cincin- 
nati, Ohio,  May  12  and  13,  1869.  John  A.  Logan  was  re- 
elected commander-in-chief  for  another  year. 

44  From  the  Adjutant  General’s  report  at  this  Encampment 
we  learn  that  the  order  was  rapidly  dying  out  in  the  Western 
States,  but  was  being  kept  alive  in  the  East — Illinois,  which 
at  one  time  had  three  hundred  and  thirty  Posts,  reporting 
only  six.  On  the  other  hand,  Ohio  reported  three  hundred 
and  three  Posts  in  good  standing. 

44  Inquiry  developed  the  fact  that  4 politics 3 was  killing 
the  order.  The  veterans  were  suspicious,  and  lpoked  upon  it 
as  a huge  political  machine,  used  by  unscrupulous  office-seek- 
ers to  further  their  own  ends  and  aims.  The  people,  taking 
the  same  view  of  the  case,  were  also  disgusted  with  it,  and 
refused  to  countenance  or  help  it  along.  Therefore  this 
encampment  voted  to  remodel  the  entire  structure.  A new 
set  of  Rules  and  Regulations  was  adopted,  wherein  politics 
especially  was  prohibited,  viz:  Article  XI,  Chapter  V : 

444  No  officer  or  comrade  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Re- 
public shall  in  any  manner  use  this  organization  for  partisan 
purposes,  and  no  discussion  of  partisan  questions  shall  be 
permitted  at  any  of  its  meetings,  nor  shall  any  nominations 
for  political  office  be  made.’ 

44  The  encampment  also  established  three  grades  in  the 
order  called  the  4 Recruit,’  4 Soldier’  and  4 Veteran,’  the  latier 
only,  being  admitted  into  full  membership;  and  also  adopted 
the  following  articles  of  Rules  and  Regulations  which  are  in 
full  force  at  the  present  time:] 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 


242 


44  OBJECTS 

44  4 The  objects  to  be  accomplished  by  this  organization  are 
as  follows: 

44  4 First:  To  preserve  and  strengthen  those  kind  and 

fraternal  feelings  which  bind  together  the  soldiers,  sailors  and 
mariners  who  united  to  suppress  the  late  rebellion  and  to 
perpetuate  the  memory  and  history  of  the  dead, 

444  Second:  To  assist  such  former  comrades  in  arms  as 

need  help  and  protection;  and  to  extend  needful  aid  to  the 
widows  and  orphans  of  those  who  have  fallen, 

44  4 Third:  To  maintain  true  allegiance  to  the  United 

States  of  America,  based  upon  a paramount  respect  for,  and 
fidelity  to,  the  National  Constitution  and  laws;  to  discounte- 
nance whatsoever  tends  to  weaken  loyalty,  incites  to  insurrec- 
tion, treason  or  rebellion,  or  in  any  manner  impairs  the 
efficiency  and  permanency  of  our  free  institutions;  and  to  en- 
courage the  spread  of  universal  liberty,  equal  rights  and 
justice  to  all  men. 

44  4 ELIGIBILITY  TO  MEMBERSHIP. 

44  4 Soldiers  and  Sailors  of  the  United  States  Army,  Navy 
or  Marine  Corps,  who  served  between  April  12,  1861,  and 
August  20,  1 866,  in  the  war  for  the  suppression  of  the  Rebel- 
lion, and  those  having  been  honorably  discharged  therefrom 
after  such  service,  and  of  such  State  regiments  as  were  called 
into  active  service  and  subject  to  the  orders  of  U.  S.  General 
Officers,  between  the  dates  mentioned,  shall  be  eligible  to 
membership  in  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic.  No  person 
shall  be  eligible  to  membership  who  has  at  any  time  borne 
arms  against  the  United  States.’ 

44  From  that  time  to  the  present  the  growth  of  the  Order 
has  been  steady  and  prosperous.  The  4 boys,’  finding  that 
they  were  not  to  be  used  as  4 somebody’s  tool  ’ for  political 
purposes,  gradually  came  forward  and  joined  the  various  Posts, 
manifesting  a willingness  to  be  identified  with  an  organization 
whose  aims  and  purposes  were  purely  and  unequivocally: 
Fraternity,  Charity  and  Loyalty. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


243 


“The fourth  National  Encampment  was  held  at  Wash- 
ington, D.  C.,  May  n and  12,  1870.  John  A.  Logan  was 
re-elected  commander-in-chief  for  a third  term. 

“ This  encampment  adopted  resolutions  calling  upon  Con- 
gress to  make  Memorial  Day  (May  30)  a legal  holiday.  A 
c Badge  ’ for  the  order  was  also  adopted,  the  same  as  now 
worn  by  the  members  of  the  G.  A.  R.,  and  may  be  described 
thus: 

“ A five-pointed  bronze  star  made  from  cantr.cn  captured 
in  decisive  battles  of  the  civil  war,  and  donated  by  Congress 
for  the  purpose.  The  design  upon  one  side  presents  the 
Goddess  of  Liberty  to  represent  Loyalty , and  on  either  side 
of  her  is  a soldier  and  sailor  clasping  hands  to  represent  Fra- 
ternity, while  two  little  children,  leceiving  benediction  and 
assurance  of  protection  from  the  comrades,  represent  Charity . 
On  each  side  of  the  group  is  the  national  flag  and  eagle,  rep- 
resenting Freedom , while  the  axe  and  bundle  of  rods  or 
fasces , represent  Union . In  each  point  of  the  star  is  the  in- 
signia of  the  various  arms  of  the  service,  that  is  the  bugle  for 
Infantry,  crossed  cannon  for  Artillery,  crossed  muskets  for  the 
Marines,  crossed  swords  for  the  Cavalry,  and  the  anchor  for 
the  Sailors.  Over  the  central  group  are  the  words  4 Grand 
Army  of  the  Republic  under  the  group,  c 1861.  Veteran. 
1 866,’  commemorating  the  beginning  and  close  of  the  civil 
war;  also  the  date  of  the  organization  of  the  G.  A.  R. 

“ The  other  side  of  the  star  presents  a branch  of  laurel — 
the  crown  and  reward  of  the  brave — on  each  point  of  the 
star.  The  National  shield  in  the  center,  surrounded  by  the 
twenty-four  recognized  corps  badges  in  the  order  of  their 
number,  each  on  a keystone,  and  all  linked  together,  are  ar- 
ranged to  show  that  they  are  united,  and  will  guard  and  pro- 
tect the  shield  of  the  Nation.  Around  the  center  is  a circle 
of  stars  representing  the  States  of  the  Union,  also  the  Depart- 
ments’ composing  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Reoublic. 


244 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


u The  clasp  of  the  badge  is  a bronze  eagle  with  outstretched 
wings,  holding  a naked  sword  over  crossed  cannon  and  piled 
ammunition,  representing  Defense — always  ready  ro  defend 
the  flag  of  the  United  States,  which,  as  the  emblem  and  ribbon 
of  the  order,  is  suspended  from  the  clasp,  and  sustains  the  star. 

44  The  fifth  National  Encampment  was  held  at  Boston, 
Mass.,  May  io  and  n,  1871. 

44  A.  E.  Burnside,  of  Rhode  Island,  was  elected  command- 
er-in-chief. The  4grade  system’  was  abolished,  and  only  one 
degree  for  full  membership  established. 

44  The  sixth  National  Encampment  was  held  at  Cleve- 
land, Ohio,  May  8 and  9,  1872.  A.  E.  Burnside  was  re-elect- 
ed commander-in-chief. 

44  The  seventh  National  Encampment  was  held  at  New 
Haven,  Connecticut,  May  14  and  15,  1873.  Charles  A. 
Devens,  of  Massachusetts,  was  elected  commander-in-chief. 

44  The  eighth  National  Encampment  was  held  at  Har- 
risburg, Penn.,  May  13,  1874,  Charles  A.  Devens  being  re- 
elected commander-in-chief. 

44  The  ninth  National  Encampment  was  held  at  Chicago, 
111.,  May  12  and  13,  1875.  J°^n  F.  Hartranft,  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, was  elected  commander-in-chief. 

44  The  tenth  National  Encampment  was  held  at  Philadel- 
phia, Penn.,  June  30,  1876.  John  F.  Hartranft  was  re-elect- 
ed commander-in-chief. 

44  The  eleventh  National  Encampment  was  held  at  Prov- 
idence, R.  I.,  June  26  and  27,  1877.  John  C.  Robinson,  of 
New  York,  was  elected  commander-in-chief. 

44  The  twelfth  National  Encampment  was  held  at 
Springfield,  Mass.,  June  4,  1878.  John  C.  Robinson  was  re- 
elected commander-in-chief. 

44  The  thirteenth  National  Encampment  was  held  at  Al- 
bany, New  York,  June  17  and  18,  1879.  William  Eamshaw, 
of  Ohio,  was  elected  commander-in-chief* 


G.  A.  R.  BADGE. 


REVERSE  OF  STAR. 


246 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


u The  Adjutant  General  reported  a gain  for  the  past  year 
of  4,048  members,  and  a total  membership  of  31,415. 

“ The  fourteenth  Annual  Encampment  was  held  at 
Dayton,  Ohio.  Commander  Earnshaw  positively  declined 
to  be  a candidate  for  re-election,  saying  that  he  wished  to  es- 
tablish the  precedent  that  no  man  should  hold  che  office  of 
commander-in-chief  for  more  than  one  term. 

“ Louis  Wagner,  of  Pennsylvania,  was  elected  command- 
er-in-chief. 

“ The  Report  of  the  Adjt.-Gen.  showed  a membership  of 
44,802  on  December  31,  1879,  being  a gain  during  the  year 

of  I3>387* 

U The  fifteenth  National  Encampment  was  held  at 
Indianapolis,  Indiana,  June  15  and  16,  1881.  George  S. 
Merrill  of  Massachusetts,  was  elected  commander-in-chief. 
The  gain  in  membership  during  the  previous  year  was  15,876, 
and  a total  membership  of  60,678. 

“ The  sixteenth  National  Encampment  was  held  at  Bal- 
timore, Maryland,  June  21,  22  and  23,  1882. 

“ Paul  Vandervoort  of  Nebraska,  was  elected  commander- 
iiv  chief.  The  gain  in  membership  during  the  previous  year 
was  reported  at  25,178,  and  the  total  membership  at  85,865. 

“ The  seventeenth  National  Encampment  was  held  at 
Denver,  Colorado,  July  25  and  26,  1883.  Robert  B.  Beath 
of  Pennsylvania  was  elected  commander-in-chief.  The  Ad- 
jutant General  reported  that  on  Dec.  31,  1882,  there  were 
13 1,890  members  in  good  standing — showing  a gain  of  46,- 
034  during  the  year.  He  also  reported  that  on  March  31, 
1883,  there  were  145,932  members  and  971  Posts  in  good 
standing,  or  a gain  in  three  months  of  174  Posts  and  14,042 
members.  All  over  the  country  the  order  is  reported  as  in  a 
flourishing  condition.  New  Posts  are  springing  up  in  every 
direction.  Even  away  out  on  the  frontiers,  in  the  Territories, 
strong  working  Posts  may  be  fcund.  Each  year,  wherever 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 


247 


/he  National  Encampment  has  been  held,  the  citizens  have 
received  the  veterans  with  open  arms,  and  have  done  their 
very  best  to  tnake  their  stay  agreeable.  Nothing  was  too 
good  for  the  men  who  had  hazarded  their  lives  to  save  the 
Nation  as  one  country  and  under  one  flag. 

44  It  is  now  well  understood  that  the  Grand  Army  of  the 
Republic  is  not  a huge  political  machine,  that  it  favors  no 
jDolitical  party,  and  indorses  no  man  for  office.  As  an  organi- 
zation it  inculcates  a spirit  of  patriotism  in  the  rising  genera- 
tion. As  an  organization  the  members  do  not  forget  4 that 
fraternity  of  feeling  which  binds  them  together  as  comrades , 
that  charity  which  prompts  them  to  the  noblest  sacrifices  for 
the  needy  and  destitute  wards  of  the  Grand  Army,  and  that 
Loyalty  which  binds  them  together  as  citizens,  and  to  an 
undying  vigilance  which  is  the  price  of  liberty.’ 

44  In  an  address  to  the  encampment,  Commander  Devens 
said:  4 The  objects  of  our  Association  are  such  as  should 

commend  themselves  not  only  to  those  who  have  fought 
under  the  flag  of  the  Union,  but  to  all  good  citizens  also. 
Against  our  organization  it  has  been  especially  charged  that 
it  was  secret  in  its  character,  and  that  all  secret  societies  were 
dangerous  in  a republican  government.  Plausible  as  this 
remark  sounds,  it  is  obvious  that  it  can  have  no  proper  appli- 
cation to  those  societies  whose  purposes  are  well  known,  and 
whose  secrecy  is  limited  entirely  to  the  Ritual  by  which  their 
proceedings  are  conducted,  and  to  their  modes  of  recognizing 
their  fellow  members.  The  Grand  Army  has  no  purpose 
that  it  is  unwilling  to  reveal  to  the  world / it  has  no  obliga- 
tion that  any  citizen  soldier,  who  is  the  same  man  to-day  in 
thought  and  feeling  that  he  was  in  the  hour  of  trial,  cannot 
take  without  hesitation  or  reservation;  it  has  no  political  bear- 
ing or  significance;  any  effort  to  turn  it  to  any  such  object  is  to 
be  resisted  with  our  utmost  resolution.  As  the  old  army  was 
always  broad  enough  to  include  all  (no  matter  what  might 


248  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

be  their  differences  of  opinion  as  to  men  or  measures)  of  loyal 
and  true  devotion,  so  this  Association  is  broad  enough  to  wel- 
come to  its  ranks  every  veteran  whose  heart  still  beats  respon^ 
sively  to  the  music  of  the  Union.  In  this  connection  I deem 
it  proper  to  say  that  sometimes  attempts  have  been  made  to 
secure  the  influence  of  our  organization  in  matters  merely 
political,  such  as  aiding  in  elections  of,  or  securing  appoint- 
ments for,  particular  individuals.  Such  attempts  have  never 
received,  and  will  not  at  any  time  receive,  any  encouragement 
at  the  National  Headquarters.  They  are  not  only  in  viola- 
tion of  the  whole  spirit  of  our  order,  but  of  its  letter , as 
expressed  by  its  Rules  and  Regulations.  Let  it  be  under' 
stood  that  our  organization  has  no  system  of  politics 
except  that  great  and  grand  system  in  which  all  true 
men  are  agreed,  whether  citizens  or  soldiers —those  prin- 
ciples of  devotion  to  the  death,  if  need  be,  for  Liberty  and  the 
Laws,  for  the  Constitution  and  the  Union,  which  we  once 
preached  with  our  rifles  in  our  hands  and  our  country’s  flag 
above  our  heads,  amidst  the  smoke  and  fire  of  an  hundred 
battlefields.  Let  it  be  known  that  by  these  principles  alone 
we  are  united,  that  this  society  does  not  exist  for  any  personal 
ends  or  selfish  purposes,  and  that  it  is  not  to  be  used  by  any 
man,  or  any  set  of  men.  If  those  who  have  enjoyed  life 
together  as  schoolmates  or  classmates,  delight  to  renew  the 
scenes  of  their  former  life,  and  to  live  over  again  in  each 
other’s  company  the  days  that  are  passed,  surely  the  tie  of 
affection  which  binds  together  men  who  have  not  only 
enjoyed  much  but  suffered  together,  must  be  one  of  no 
ordinary  character. 

“ 4 Unless  hearts  were  flint,  no  man  could  be  insensible  or 
cold  to  him  by  whose  side  he  had  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder 
in  the  ranks  of  war,  upon  whose  fidelity  and  courage  he  had 
known  that  his  own  life  depended,  and  felt  reassured  as  he 
looked  upon  his  resomte  brow  and  kindling  eye,  and  to 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  249 

^hom  he  had  been  all  that  is  expressed  by  the  simple  but 
dear  word — comrade . 

44 4 Agreeable  and  delightful  as  are  the  social  characteristics 
of  our  association,  it  has  higher  aims  than  these,  to  guard  and 
cherish  the  memory  of  those  of  our  comrades  who  have 
passed  away;  to  teach  the  inestimable  value  of  the  services  of 
those  who — unused  to  the  trade  of  arms — did  not  hesitate, 
when  the  hour  of  trial  came,  to  leave  the  plow  in  the  furrow 
and  the  hammer  on  the  anvil,  and  commit  themselves  to  the 
shock  of  battle,  appealing  to  the  God  of  battles  for  the  justice 
of  their  cause,  is  with  us  a most  sacred  duty.  And  this  not 
alone  that  the  dead  may  be  honored , but  that  the  living  may 
be  encouraged  to  imitate  their  example,  and  that  the  strong 
spirit  of  nationality  and  loyalty  to  the  Government  which 
bore  us  up  so  bravely  through  four  years  of  unexampled  trial 
may  be  fostered  and  strengthened,  and  that  we  ourselves  may 
be  consecrated  anew  to  the  cause  for  which  so  many  have 
suffered.  But,  although  it  is  our  object  to  do  justice  to  the 
memory  of  our  dead,  it  is  our  aim  to  do  justice  to  the  living 
also;  to  secure  a fair  and  just  recognition  of  their  claims,  and 
to  protect  their  i*ights  by  all  suitable  means  within  our 
control.  Above  all,  as  true  homage  must  consist  not  in  words 
but  in  deeds,  we  have  always  held  that  no  higher  honor  could 
be  paid  to  the  just  fame  of  the  brave  men  who  have  defended 
the  Republic  than  to  assist  by  kind  words  and  material  aid 
all  good  and  true  soldiers  who  by  wounds,  disease,  old  age  or 
misfortune,  have  become  dependent,  and  tenderly  to  care  for 
the  widows  and  orphans  of  the  fallen.  The  motto  which 
our  order  bears — 4 Fraternity,  Charity  and  Loyalty,’ — is  the 
brief  summary  of  its  principles.’ 

44  In  his  address  to  the  National  Encampment,  said  Chap- 
lain-in-chief,  Lovering:  4 So  far  as  the  faith  and  morals  of 

the  G.  A.  R.  are  concerned,  I have  this  to  say:  Its  faith  has 

its  religion,  and  its  religion  has  the  devout  obedience  of  every 


25° 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


worthy  member  of  our  order.  I do  not  refer  to  any  religion, 
sectarian  or  universal,  liberal  or  conservative,  Christian  or 
Pagan,  as  such.  Whatever  disputes  there  may  be  outside 
of  our  organization  concerning  them,  do  not  affect  us.  Reli- 
gion means  bond . The  highest  religion  casts  out  all  spirit 
of  fear  and  makes  its  ‘bond’  that  of  love.  Our  religion, 
within  the  terms  of  our  organization,  claims  that  highest, 
bond.  It  is  permeated,  it  is  saturated  with  the  spirit  of  that 
love.  That  love  is  love  of  country.  That  religion  is  the  re- 
ligion of  patriotism. 

44  4 Its  altars  are  the  graves  of  the  unforgotten  and  heroic. 
Its  symbol  is  the  flag  of  our  Union.  Its  priests  are  all  those, 
within  its  organization,  who  confess  this  soldierly  creed:  I 

believe  in  a fraternity  which  joins  in  indissoluble  union,  jus- 
tice and  right. 

“ ‘ I believe  in  a charity  that,  while  merciful  to  a conquered 
foe,  does  not  stultify  itself  by  surrendering  the  fruits  of  victo- 
ry; that  never  forgets  the  brightness  of  that  cause  which  has 
been  made  illustrious  by  the  heroic  sacrifices  of  those  whose 
graves  should  be  the  shrines  of  the  Nation’s  reverence. 

u 4 1 believe  in  loyalty  that  acknowledges  “one  country  and 
one  Jlagf  that  makes  American  citizenship  honorable  every- 
where; that  calls  rebellion  a crime,  and  the  penalty  of  trea- 
son— death , 

44  4 1 believe  that,  in  fraternity  and  charity,  we  should  stand 
shoulder  to  shoulder,  willing  at  all  hazard  of  favor  or  fame 
to  defend  the  G.  A.  R.  as  the  standard  bearer  of  the  nation’s 
loyalty. 

44  4 There  is  one  word  I wish  to  emphasize.  It  is  the  rally- 
ing word  of  our  whole  body.  It  gives  the  pulse  beat  to  ev- 
ery heart  in  every  44  Post.”  It  is  written  upon  every  altar  of 
patriotism  we  call  a soldier’s  grave.  It  speaks  to  us  in  the 
honorable  scars  which  wounds  or  disease,  or  the  wasting 
hand  of  time  has  made  on  those  who  in  the  fullness  of  man- 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


25* 


hood  stood  forth  to  battle  for  the  Union  and  the  right.  It  is 
woven  into  every  thread,  red,  white,  or  blue,  of  our  glorious 
banner.  It  shines  in  every  ray  of  light  that  gleams  from  the 
stars  we  have  plucked  with  full  hands  from  the  skies  to 
brighten  and  glorify  our  flag.  It  is  the  one  word  that  ig 
above  the  taint  of  political  partisanship,  and  which  seals  our 
allegiance  to  one  country  and  one  flag.  Cicero,  the  Roman 
orator,  when  he  denounced  the  traitor  and  conspirator,  Cata- 
line,  said,  “ Let  it  be  written  upon  the  forehead  of  every  citi- 
zen what  are  his  views  concerning  the  republic.”  Our  views 
have  been  written  upon  the  pages  of  our  Nation’s  history  in 
ineffaceable  characters.  The  ink  was  blood  • the  pens  were 
bayonets  and  sabers . One  word  focalizes  these  views.  It  is 
written  upon  the  forehead  of  every  soldier.  The  spirit  of  it 
beats  in  the  heart  of  every  soldier.  The  temper  of  it  tough- 
ens every  muscle  and  thrills  along  every  nerve  of  every  sol- 
dier. That  word  is  “Loyalty”  ’ 

“ Commander-in-chief  George  S.  Merrill  in  his  address 
said  : 4 The  Grand  Army  is  to-day  the  representative  organi- 
zation of  the  soldiers  and  sailors  of  America,  the  one  great 
association  which  includes  the  veterans  of  every  army  and  all 
ranks  ; the  men  who  followed  the  flag  upon  the  land,  and 
who  fought  beneath  its  folds  upon  the  sea  ; men  of  every 
nationality,  color  and  creed  ; the  officer  who  wore  the  well 
worn  stars  of  a general,  and  the  private  whose  only  badge  of 
distinction  was  in  patriotic  and  faithful  service  in  the  ranks — 
all  upon  the  common  level  of  Comrades  of  the  flag  with 
tC Fraternity ” which  would  bind  in  closer  ties  the  veterans 
who  offered  all  that  they  possessed  upon  the  altar  of  country: 
with  “ Charity ” which  would  protect  and  care  for  the  needy 
ones  among  all  the  Nation’s  defenders,  their  wives  and  little 
ones,  and  “ Loyalty ” which  would  keep  ever  brightly  burn- 
ing that  spirit  of  patriotism  leading  a free  people  to  rise,  in 
the  majesty  and  might  of  1861,  to  defend  the  unity  of  the  re- 


252 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


public,  and  secure  to  generations  yet  unborn  a government 
from,  by  and  for  all  the  people;  let  the  success  of  the  past  be 
but  an  inspiration  to  greater  efforts  in  behalf  of  our  organiza- 
tion in  the  future,  and  rest  and  sleep  come  not  within  our 
tents  until  every  honorably  discharged  soldier  and  sailor  who 
merits  our  confidence  is  enrolled  in  the  Grand  Army  of  the 
Republic.’ 

“Said  Commander-in-chief  Vandervoort  in  his  address  : 
cWe  stand  in  line  to-day  as  we  did  when  we  marched  to  the 
front  burning  with  loyalty,  breaking  asunder  the  ties  of  party 
and  meeting  on  one  common  platform,  waving  aloft  a torn 
and  honorable  discharge,  and  exemplifying  fraternity,  charity 
and  loyalty.  I have  heard  the  doctrine  advocated  that  the 
sentence  in  our  “installation  service”  “That  we  should  stand 
by  the  soldier  though  the  whole  world  assail  him,”  means 
that  we  should  do  so  if  our  comrade  is  a candidate  for  politi- 
cal office. 

“‘The  Grand  Army  fetters  the  conscience  of  no  member. 
It  gives  the  largest  liberty  to  all.  It  stands  aloof  from  the 
strife  and  clash  of  parties.  “It  will  stand  by  the  comrade 
though  the  whole  world  assail  him”  in  sickness,  in  distress, 
when  the  old  wounds  re-open,  when  the  wife  and  children 
are  destitute.  It  will  take  old  veterans  from  the  “almshouse.” 
It  will  remove  their  bones  from  a pauper’s  grave,  and  bury 
them  in  holy  ground.  It  will  procure  employment.  It  will 
lighten  up  the  desolate  home  with  the  glowing  illustration  of 
Charity,  but  in  all  political  and  religious  affairs  we  will  hold 
our  independence  of  thought,  and  our  conscience  as  something 
we  will  not  surrender  to  any  order  in  the  land. 

“ 4 To  close  I can  not  do  better  than  to  give  an  extract  from 
a poem  by  Emily  Hawthorne  : 

“ 4 In  years  agone,  a fearful  strife  was  ended: 

And  hosts  of  valiant  men  who  came  together 
At  their  country’s  call, — summoned  to  combat, 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


253 


Whose  name  was  legion  when  they  started  forth, 

Were  now  dispersed;  o’er  this  broad  land 
From  East  to  Western  shores  were  widely  scattered, 
And  resumed  their  peaceful  avocations 
In  field  or  shop,  as  ere  they  went  to  war. 

The  clanking  swords  and  sabers  in  quiet 
Graced  the  wall,  with  gleaming  bayonets  sheathed : 

The  muskets  now  in  dusty  corners  stacked, 

Rested,  and  rusty  grew,  while,  bent  to  duty, 

The  patient  shoulders  where  they  had  been  borne, 

Were  placed  to  move  the  wheels  of  honest  industry 
Which  once  more  sang,  with  an  unceasing  hum 
The  song  of  peaceful  labor,  honest  toil. 

As  erst  my  muse  declared  was  warfare  ended, 

And  e’en  a twelve  month,  too,  had  passed  away, 

Since  “Grand  Review”  and  final  muster  out; 

When  a strange  germ  in  memory’s  garden  grew; 

For  months  this  tender  thought  had  lain,  deep  hid. 

Like  a spring  flower  that  sleeps  ’neath  wintry  snows. 
Till  balmy  seasons  call  its  tendrils  forth ; 

Thus  mem’ry  touched  the  germ  in  many  hearts 
And  woke  Fraternal  feeling  in  the  breast 
Of  comrades  who  had  shared  the  weary  march; 

From  same  canteen  had  quaffed  the  cooling  drink, 
Assuaging  thirst  intense,  of  famished  men, 

Who,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  had  met  the  foe ; 

Where  fiercest  carnage  raged  had  borne  the  brunt, 

And  had  together  faced  its  scenes  of  horror. 

Then  midst  the  loyal  lads  o’er  all  the  “States” 

In  field  and  shop,  and  busy  mart  wide  severed, 

The  feeling  grew,  a yearning  unsuppressed, 

To  see  and  greet  again  those  fellow  soldiers. 

This  longing  found  expression  and  reply ; 

Some  met,  were  thrilled  with  joy,  and  organized 
This  loyal,  true,  and  mighty  brotherhood, 

M Grand  Army  of  Republic.”  Thus  was  formed 
The  nucleus  small  of  numbers  few, 

Round  which  now  stand  two  hundred  thousand  comrades. 
Loyalty  was  its  test  and  basis  firm, 

And  with  Fraternity  presided  there; 

These  two  were  wed,  and  from  this  union  true, 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


1 


*54 


Came  Charity , which  greater  is  than  all. 

These  soldiers’  hearts  are  swayed  by  unseen  motors; 
They  are  united  by  a wondrous  tie ; 

A mystic  link  inured  by  battles  dared, 

Strong  joined,  aye,  welded  too,  by  dangers  shared. 
By  camp-fires  lighted  in  a thousand  towns, 

Do  comrades  bring  the  wealth  of  memory’s  stores ; 
The  symbols  keep  of  war’s  vicissitudes; 

Join  hands  in  holy  realm  of  sympathy, 

And  annually  the  “Grand  Encampment”  meets, 
And  year  by  year  grows  large  with  added  numbers. 
So  shall  this  order  prosper,  lifted  o’er 
All  party  wrangle  or  dissension’s  strife, 

And  gather  hosts  of  veteran  recruits, 

Till  ten  years  pass — fast  fall  the  soldiers  old — 

And  then  shall  surely  come  the  lessening  ranks, 
With  no  more  volunteers  from  whom  to  choose; 
Then  one  by  one  shall  all  be  mustered  out, 

Vet,  answer  to  a glorious  reveille, 

And  join  the  comrades  who  have  gone  before. 

In  Heaven  shall  gather  an  army  grand, 

To  form  one  universal  brotherhood.’  ” 


CAMP-FIRE  XXII. 


A ROMANCE  OF  THE  WAR A STORY  STRANGE  BUT  TRUE 

WHAT  AN  INSANE  FISHERMAN  CAUGHT. 

J^P[ATHERED  together  this  evening — a very  comfortable 
fife:  one — the  veterans  chatted  miscellaneously  for  a time  be- 
fore  commencing  business.  Finally  the  commander  fired 
up  the  pipe  of  peace,  and  then  called  the  assembly  to  order.  But 
in  his  eagerness  to  proceed  with  the  chats  he  somehow  forgot 
to  pass  the  pipe  around,  thereby  totally  disregarding  the  tra- 
ditionary custom  of  his  majesty,  the  redskin.  Since  it  was 
the  commander  who  abused  the  tradition,  the  comrades  each 
concluded  to  light  a pipe  for  himself,  after  which  Captain 
M — k spoke: 

“ In  the  summer  of  1862  our  regiment  was  stationed  along 
the  line  of  railroad  from  Decatur  to  Courtland,  Alabama. 
Small  parties  of  us,  from  time  to  time,  went  out  foraging  on 
our  own  account,  and  on  one  of  these  expeditions  I had  an 
adventure  which  had  never  recurred  to  my  mind  until  an 
event  which  happened  a few  years  after  the  war  recalled  it 
forcibly. 

“ After  the  cessation  of  hostilities  there  was  considerable 
talk  throughout  the  North  of  forming  colonies  to  settle  in  the 
West  and  South.  Well,  I got  the  ‘colony  fever’  and  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  getting  up  a colony  to  settle  in  Northern 
Alabama,  probably  near  our  old  stamping  ground. 

w With  this  project  in  view  I went  from  Chicago  to  De- 
catur, Alabama,  and  from  there  by  rail  still  further  South  to- 
ward the  Black  Warrior  River.  Reaching  my  journey’s  end 

255 


256  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

I concluded  to  return  on  horseback  by  a round-about  way, 
and  visit  some  of  the  back  country;  so  I hired  a horse  and 
started  out,  first  gathering  information  as  to  where  I could 
find  accommodations  on  the  road,  for  houses  and  settlers  are 
very  scarce  in  that  part  of  the  world,  so  that  it  behooves  a 
traveler  to  get  his  ‘points’  before  setting  out  on  a journey. 
My  calculation  was  to  reach  the  house  of  a certain  settler  at 
about  seven  o’clock  in  the  evening.  Seven  o’clock  came,  but 
no  settler’s  house  in  sight; — eight  o’clock — nine  o’clock — ten 
o’clock,  and  still  no  house  to  be  seen. 

44  By  this  time  I was  thoroughly  convinced  that  I had 
lost  my  way.  I was  tired  out,  and  my  horse  was  completely 
jaded.  I rode  on  about  an  hour,  and  at  last  to  my  supreme 
delight  I spied  a light  which  I made  for  at  once.  I found 
that  it  proceeded  from  the  window  of  a log  cabin  to  which  I 
rode  up,  and  dismounting  and  hitching  my  horse,  I attempted 
to  enter  the  yard,  when  three  savage  dogs  with  angry  growls 
disputed  my  further  advance.  But  I finally  succeeded  in 
safely  reaching  the  porch.  I gave  a knock  on  the  door  which 
roused  the  proprietor  of  the  place,  whereupon  the  following 
dialogue  ensued,  through  the  closed  door: 

44  4 Who’s  there?  ’ 

44  4 A traveler  who  has  lost  his  way.’ 

44  4 What  do  you  want?  ’ 

44  4 1 want  accommodation  for  myself  and  horse  till  morning.1 

44  4 Well,  you  can’t  stay  here.  I don’t  keep  tavern.’ 

44  4 How  far  is  it  to  the  next  house?  ’ 

44  4 Seven  miles.’ 

44  4 It’s  not  possible  for  me  to  go  seven  miles,  for  my  horse 
is  completely  tired  out.’ 

44  4 1 can’t  help  that;  my  wife  is  sick,  and  I can’t  have  you 
around.’ 

44  4 Can’t  you  give  me  some  feed  for  my  horse,  and  a blank- 
et for  myself  ? I’ll  sleep  on  the  porch.’ 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


257 


“ After  considerable  parleying  and  urging,  this  request 
was  finally  granted.  Soon  the  door  opened  and  a tall,  pow- 
erful man  emerged,  carrying  a lantern  which  he  held  squarely 
in  my  face  for  a moment  in  order  to  get  a good  look  at  me, 
after  which  he  led  the  wav  to  the  stable,  where  he  groomed 
and  fed  my  horse,  and  then  we  returned  to  the  house. 

44  At  the  porch  I halted,  expecting  him  to  go  in  and  get 
me  a blanket;  but  as  he  entered  the  door  he  said: 

44  4 Come  in,  stranger;  I want  to  talk  to  you.’ 

44  I entered  the  cabin  and  sat  down.  He  threw  a few 
pine  knots  upon  the  smoldering  fire  and  soon  a bright  blaze 
illumined  the  room.  Then  placing  himself  squarely  in 
front  of  me,  and  giving  me  a searching  look,  he  demanded  in 
an  imperious  manner: 

‘“Now,  stranger,  I want  to  know  who  you  are,  and 
what  is  your  business  in  these  parts  ?’ 

44  4 1 have  already  told  you  that  I atr  a traveler  looking 
for  a suitable  location  to  establish  a colony  from  the  North.’ 
44  4 Looking  for  land,  hey ! Goiog  10  establish  a colony? 
Now,  stranger,  that  story  is  altogetr  er  too  thin!  Men  don’t 
go  round  at  midnight  hunting  i land.  Now  tell  me  the 
truth — who  are  you,  and  w1  are  you  after?' 

44  4 1 have  already  told  ou  who  I am,  and  my  business; 
and  if  you  don’t  believe  Ae  it  is  not  my  fault.’ 

44  Again  he  searc*  .gly  eyed  me,  and  then  with  an  earnest 
emphasis,  said: 

444  4 Strange  ou  have  been  in  these  parts  before  l 
44 4 Yes.’ 

44 4 You  were  a Yankee  soldier,  then? 

444  Yes.’ 

44  4 In  1862,  and  stationed  near  Decatur?’ 

44  4 Yes.’ 

44  4 While  out  foragin’  one  day  with  another  Yankee  you 
stumbled  into  Roddy’s  confederate  cavalry  camp;  but  before 
you  were  discovered  you  turned  back  and  escaped?  ’ 


258  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 

“‘Yes.’ 

“‘Just  as  you  left  Roddy’s  camp  you  met  one  of  Roddy’s 
men  with  a neck-yoke  over  his  shoulders,  and  carrying  a 
couple  of  buckets  of  water  in  his  hands?  ’ 

“ 4 Yes.’ 

“ 4 You  put  your  pistol  to  that  man's  head  and  forced  him 
to  go  over  a mile  to  the  rear  with  you  to  prevent  his  giving 
an  alarm  ? ’ 

“ 4 Yes.’ 

44  4 Stranger,  lam  that  man l' 

44  It  seemed  to  me,  about  that  time,  that  he  meant  business, 
and  intended  to  settle  the  old  affair  there  and  then.  But 
putting  on  a bold  front,  I remarked  as  unconcernedly  as  1 
could : 

44  4 Well,  you  have  a mighty  good  memory.’ 

44  4 Yes,  I remember  some  things.  You  bet  I knew  you 
the  minute  I set  eyes  on  you;  and  I’ll  remember  you  as  long 
as  I live.’ 

44  Meanwhile  his  wife  had  made  her  appearance,  and, 
lighting  her  corn-cob  pipe,  seated  herself  near  the  fireplace, 
prepared  to  enjoy  the  fun. 

44I  hardly  knew  what  would  come  next;  but,  after  a pause, 
the  man  changed  his  position  and  manner,  and  said: 

44  4 Now  that  I’ve  told  you  who  you  are  I’ll  tell  you  more 
about  myself.  I staid  with  Roddy’s  Cavalry  Company  for 
about  three  months  after  I saw  you,  and  then  my  brother 
and  myself  deserted  and  enlisted  in  the  First  Alabama  Union 
cavalry  regiment,  where  we  staid  till  the  close  of  the  war. 
After  the  war  we  came  home;  we  were  obliged  to  sleep  in 
caves  and  keep  concealed  for  a long  time,  as  our  former  com* 
panions  sought  to  kill  us,  and  hunted  us  like  wolves.  Our 
lives  were  in  danger  every  minute — but  lately  they  don’t 
trouble  us  much. 

44  4 But  I say,  stranger,  how’s  things  up  North?  Is  there 


GEN.  W.  B.  HAZEN, 


DRUM, 


GEN,  A.  W.  GREELY. 


GEN.  N.  A.  MILES, 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


259 


going  to  be  another  war?  We  think  there  will  be  soon.  If 
there  is  you  may  count  on  me  in  going  in  for  Union  ! ’ 

“ He  now  brought  me  out  a lunch  to  which  I did  ample 
justice,  and  then  I asked  for  a blanket  that  I might  go  to 
sleep  upon  the  porch,  as  agreed. 

“‘No  sir,’  said  he;  ‘ no  blanket  for  you;  I’ve  as  good  a 
bed  as  there  is  in  this  part  of  the  country,  and  you  are 
welcome  to  it ! ’ 

“After  sleeping  till  morning  I found  a fine  breakfast 
awaiting  me,  and  that  my  horse  had  been  already  taken  care 
of;  and  when  I started  off  again  my  landlord  accompanied  me 
for  several  miles  to  show  me  the  way.” 

“That’s  a good  story,”  said  Colonel  Van  Buren,  of  the 
I92d  New  York;  “but  let  me  tell  an  incident  that  will  remind 
many  of  you  of  a hundred  similar  schemes  which  the  home- 
sick invented  to  get  discharged. 

“You  all  know  how  the  boys  tried  the  insanity  dodge* 
Well,  there  was  one  fellow  in  my  regiment  who  played  it 
most  successfully.  We  were  at  Fort  Grebel  in  February, 
1862.  Fort  Grebel  was  on  the  branch  of  the  Potomac, 
opposite  Arlington  Heights. 

“ One  night  there  was  a very  heavy  rain,  and  in  the  morn- 
ing, before  the  other  soldiers  began  to  stir  about  the  camp, 
this  fellow— I have  forgotten  his  name — tied  a string  to  his 
bayonet,  took  a position  on  the  parapet,  began  fishing  in  a 
shallow  pool,  and  to  all  appearances  became  entirely  unmind- 
ful of  his  surroundings. 

“ An  hour  passed.  No  one  interrupted  him,  and  still  he 
could  be  seen  quietly  but  regularly  lifting  his  gun  with  the 
string  from  the  pool,  as  though  the  gun  were  a fishing  pole, 
and  that  he  had  a bite.  By  and  by  the  sun  came  up,  and 
while  the  other  boys  were  going  about  camp  preparing  for 
breakfast,  the  fisherman  still  kept  up  his  weary  stroke,  lifting 
his  supposed  fishing-tackle  from  the  water  almost  as  regularly 
as  though  it  were  done  by  a clock. 


26o 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


44  The  surroundings  and  occasion  were  such  that  it  was 
only  necessary  for  a sane  man  to  look  once  in  order  to  be 
convinced  that  something  was  lacking  about  the  4 head-work  ’ 
of  the  machine  which  was  fishing  in  the  pool. 

“The  boys  all  began  to  talk  about  the  matter,  many  of 
them  jesting  in  a manner  wholly  amusing.  But  no  cessation 
in  the  regular  stroke  of  the  fisherman.  Finally  the  matter 
came  to  the  notice  of  the  captain,  who  at  once  proceeded  to 
the  interesting  scene  of  operations. 

444  What  are  you  doing  there?’  he  demanded. 

“ No  response.  The  gun  and  string  were  lifted  with  the 
same  regularity  as  ever. 

“ 4 Halt!’  commanded  the  captain. 

44  Not  a single  movement  of  the  fisherman.  Up  went  the 
pretended  fishing-tackle  again. 

44  4 Shoulder  arms!’  again  commanded  the  captain,  think- 
ing that  hearing  an  accustomed  order  might  bring  the  soldier 
to  his  senses. 

44  But  the  warrior’s  countenance  was  as  rigid  as  ever,  and 
the  fixed  stare  seemed  riveted  on  the  string  which  hung  from 
the  point  of  his  bayonet  and  dropped  carelessly  down  into  the 
small  pool  before  him. 

44  The  captain  now  concluded  to  report  the  matter  to  the 
colonel,  and  started  off  on  the  errand  at  once.  He  suddenly 
met  the  colonel  who  had  also  beheld  the  fisherman,  and  was 
coming  to  investigate.  The  captain  then  returned  to  the  scene 
with  the  colonel,  when  the  same  experience  was  repeated. 

44  The  colonel  concluded  to  call  the  surgeon,  who  came 
and  examined  the  fisherman, — as  well  as  possible  while  the 
incessant  raising  and  lowering  of  his  gun  was  being  carried 
on, — and  recommended  that  the  insane  fisherman  be  given  a 
discharge,  which  was  accordingly  written  out  and  handed  to 
the  captain ; but  before  it  was  given  to  the  soldier,  the  colonel 
asked : 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


26l 


What  are  you  fishing  for?’ 

“ No  reply. 

“ ‘ Well,  I guess  you  can  give  him  the  document,’  con- 
tinued the  colonel,  and  the  captain  handed  it  over  to  the 
fisherman,  saying  loudly: 

“‘Here!  take  this!’ 

That's  what  I was  fishing for'  replied  the  fisherman 
as  ne  threw  down  his  gun,  pocketed  the  discharge,  and  imme- 
diately left  camp,  much  to  the  amazement  of  the  colonel,  the 
captain  and  the  surgeon,  and  very  much  to  the  amusement  of 

ad  others  who  had  heard  the  conversation.” 


CAMP-FIRE  XXIII 


THE  WRONG  OX  BY  THE  HORNS — THE  TABLES  TURNED  ON 

AN  OFFICER’S  STRICT  DISCIPLINE A DECISION  BY 

MANSFIELD,  GENERAL RIVALRY  IN  RELIGION. 

SB&  FEW  evenings  since,”  said  Mr.  S.  W.  Rodgers,  %6& 
IkaI  reminiscence  of  General  Nelson  was  given,  in  which 
^$3^  something  was  said  about  strict  discipline.  I remember 
a similar  incident  in  which  an  officer  was  compelled  to  take  a 
dose  of  his  own  medicine.  It  was  in  the  fall  of  1863,  after 
the  army  had  advanced  beyond  Chattanooga.  Fortress  Rose- 
era  ns,  Murfreesboro,  was  garrisoned  by  disabled  batteries— to 
man  the  guns  and  do  guard-duty  they  kept  a picket  tine 
around  the  fortress.  1 

“ Some  of  the  officers  in  command  of  the  post  were  not 
liked  as  well  as  they  might  have  been,  had  they  been  more 
deserving.  One  of  these,  who  was  officer  of  the  day  at  one 
time,  and  who  had  not  been  accustomed  to  holding  office  of 
any  kind,  much  less  to  commanding  soldiers,  concluded  that 
he  would  like  to  show  his  authority.  So  he  gave  strict  official 
instruction  to  the  pickets,  each  to  halt  at  twenty  paces,  dis- 
mount, advance,  and  give  the  countersign. 

“ All  this  passed  off  well  enough,  the  boys  executing  the 
order  to  the  letter.  But  finally  the  tables  were  turned.  The 
officer  tried  to  catch  some  of  the  boys  asleep  at  their  posts, 
but  of  course  failed,  most  ludicrously.  On  the  bank  of  Stone 
River,  where  the  line  crossed,  there  happened  to  be  a reso- 
lute young  fellow  who  could  not  be  intimidated  nor  imposed 
upon. 


Z62 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  263 

“The  pickets  saw  that  the  officer  in  discussion  was  trying  to 
impress  upon  the  minds  of  the  boys  the  fact  that  he  had  been 
promoted,  and  his  vigilance,  the  picket,  at  once  concluded  to 
muster  and  control  all  his  accustomed  wariness.  The  officer 
approached  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  The  picket, 
however,  had  previously  ascertained  the  fact  that  it  was  pre- 
cisely twenty  paces  from  where  he  was  standing  to  the  middle 
of  the  river.  It  may  have  occurred,  however,  nothing  being 
found  in  the  annals  of  history  to  the  contrary,  that  the  picket 
previously  moved  his  post  a few  feet  from  its  original  location 
toward  the  river,  in  order  to  have  the  middle  of  the  river  exact- 
ly twenty  paces  from  his  post;  but  this  has  never  been  proven. 

44  Whichever  way  that  may  have  been,  these  two  things 
are  certain:  That  the  officer  rode  into  the  stream  with  con- 
siderable pomp,  and  that  the  picket  stood  at  his  post  with  just 
as  much  pomp,  like  the  hero  that  he  was,  probably  thinking 
of  Casabianca  and  a certain  incident  in  the  navy  when  the 
deck  was  on  fire. 

44  When  the  officer  had  reached  the  middle  of  the  stream,” 
continued  Mr.  Rodgers,  who  had  been  interrupted  by  the 
throwing  of  more  twigs  on  the  camp-fire,  44  the  picket  imme- 
diately commanded: 

44  4„Halt!  Who  goes  there?  9 

44  4 I’m  the  officer  of  the  guard]  replied  the  officer. 

44  4 Dismount,  advance  and  give  the  countersign!  ’ was  the 
further  order  from  the  picket. 

44  4 Why,  don’t  you  know  me,  sir? — I’m  the  officer  of  the 
guard,  sir,—  officer  of  th  e guard!'  repeating  the  emphasized 
words  with  much  importance. 

44  4 I’m  not  supposed  to  know  any  one.  I abide  by  the 
code,  sir, — abide  by  the  code / I must  obey  orders,  sir, — o-b-e-y 
orders  /’  responded  the  picket,  with  the  same  kind  of  empha- 
sis that  had  come  from  the  man  in  the  river,  and  the  picket 
raised  his  gun  to  fire. 


264  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

44  4 Hold  on!  ’ cried  the  officer,  44/’//  dismount l ’ and  down 
he  went  into  the  river,  the  water  of  which  had  been  a month 
or  two  before  considerably  warmer  than  it  was  then.  Any 
one  who  was  listening  might  have  heard  an  unusual  amount 
of  swearing  by  the  ‘officer  of  the  guard ;’  but  this  had  no  effect 
on  the  picket,  who  waited  patiently  for  the  officer  to  dis- 
mount, advance,  and  give  the  countersign.  Next  day  the 
picket  was  put  under  arrest  at  the  instance  of  the  enraged 
officer,  and  was  tried  by  court-martial,  but  of  course  cleared.” 

Then  General  I.  N.  Stiles  remembered  a decision  by 
Mansfield,  the  general,  which  the  legal  fraternity  may  com- 
pare with  one  by  Mansfield,  the  justice. 

44  When  the  rebel  ram,Mernmac,”  said  he, 44  first  appeared 
at  Hampton  Roads — March  8,  1862, — General  Mansfield  was 
in  command  of  the  land  forces.  The  ram  had  sunk  the  Union 
war  vessel  Cumberland’  and  had  disabled  the  ‘Congress,’ 
which  was  run  ashore  to  prevent  her  being  captured  by 
the  4rebs.’ 

44  Seeing  this,  General  Mansfield  ordered  the  20th  In- 
diana Infantry  to  deploy  along  the  beach,  behind  a sand 
ridge,  to  prevent  the  ‘Congress’  from  being  hauled  off  by  the 
enemy.  This  vessel,  now  helpless  and  at  the  mercy  of  the 
Merrimac’s  guns,  had  run  up  a white  flag  in  token  of  sur- 
render. Captain  R.,  of  the  20th  Indiana,  who  had  been  as 
good  a lawyer  at  home  as  he  was  now  soldier  in  the  field, 
suggested  that  it  would  be  a violation  of  the  laws  of  war  to 
prevent  the  enemy  from  taking  possession  of  the  vessel,  since 
4she  had  already  surrendered.5 

44 1 know  the  d— d ship  has  surrendered,’ replied  General 
Mansfield,  4 but  I want  you  to  understand  that  we  haven’t.' 
The  decision  was  final.” 

After  the  foregoing  incident  a veteran  who,  through 
modesty,  declined  to  give  his  name,  told  a religious  (?)  anec- 
dote. His  name  being  unknown,  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  chroniclers 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


265 


might  have  attempted  to  describe  him,  but  he  stood  behind 
the  smoke  which  was  then  rolling  in  clouds  from  the  fire,  so 
that  he  could  not  be  seen.  His  story  is  this  : 

u After  we  had -settled  down  to  some  reliable  routine  of 
spending  our  time  in  the  army,  and  had  established  what  may 
be  termed  army  society,  our  brigade  and  the  one  which  was 
usually  next  to  us  became  the  most  earnest  rivals  in  almost 
everything. 

“ The  colonels  of  the  brigades  seemed  to  catch  the  inspi- 
ration, and  the  friendly  contests  which  we  had,  generally  cen- 
tered in  them. 

“ Well,  one  season  there  was  a religious  revival  in  our 
brigade,  which  furnished  an  interesting  programme  for  some 
time.  The  boys  had  been  given  a season  of  rest,  and  having 
much  time  to  reflect  upon  their  active  wickedness, they  became 
passive,  and  concluded  to  be  at  least  entertained  by  the  exer- 
cises. 

“ The  other  brigade  saw  that  we  were  excelling  them  in 
this  respect,  and  they  determined  upon  a revival.  Then  an 
excitement  arose,  and  the  interest  increased  until  finally  twelve 
of  our  boys  ‘got  religion,’  and  desired  to  be  baptized.  The 
baptism  was  administered,  and  soon  a report  of  the  occur- 
rence came  to  the  ears  of  the  colonel  of  the  other  brigade, 
who  called  up  the  chaplain  at  once,  and  said: 

“‘Here!  Chaplain,  you  have  let  that  brigade  over  there 
get  ahead  of  us!  Go  and  detail  at  least  thirty  able-bodied 
men  for  baptism  immediately.  We’ll  not  be  outdone  by 
them.’  ” 


CAMP-FIRE  XXIV. 


THE  WRONG  KIND  OF  A CAT — “ MORE  ABOUT  THE  BROKEN 
WINDOW,”  OR  CRAWFORD  AGAIN. 

UST  before  Sherman  started  to  Vicksburg,”  said  a com- 
rade from  the  76th  Ohio,  “ the  river  became  so  low  that 
it  was  exceedingly  difficult  to  make  any  speed  with  the 
boats.  The  nights  were  very  dark,  on  account  of  the  thick 
fogs,  and  we  therefore  gave  up  trying  to  run  at  night.  As 
soon  as  it  began  to  grow  dark,  the  boats  dropped  anchor,  and 
then  came  the  time  for  rest  and  recreation,  especially  the  lat- 
ter, the  opportunity  for  which  was  generally  improved  by 
hunting  something  fresh  to  eat. 

44  Two  of  us  left  the  boat  as  soon  as  we  could  get  ashore, 
and  started  off  for  a neighboring  wilderness.  We  hurried 
along  and  were  soon  lost  from  the  sight  of  the  river  and 
the  dim  outlines  of  the  boats  as  they  were  4 tooting 5 and  puf- 
fing to  and  fro  over  the  sand-bars. 

44  We  passed  an  old  deserted  log-cabin  that  well  repre- 
sented to  my  mind  the  birthplace  of  some  illustrious  states- 
man, as  indicated  by  some  imaginative  pictures.  On  our  first 
approach  to  the  place,  my  heart  bounded  in  the  hope  that 
we  would  soon  have  our  stomach  filled  with  something  a 
little  more  palatable  than  hard-tack  and  bacon,  but  the  nearer 
we  approached  the  place  the  nearer  our  hearts  approached  our 
boots.  No  inhabitants,  human  or  otherwise,  could  be  found. 
It  was  the  first  domicil  I had  ever  seen  about  which  there 
was  absolutely  no  living  thing, — that  is,  nothing  large  enough 
to  eat.  The  situation  was  very  apparent— as  much  so  as  the 

266 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  267 

growing  darkness  would  allow.  Curiosity,  however,  led  us 
to  explore.  Old  memories  began  to  haunt  us.  I remembered 
the  4 poet’s  lines,’  in  the  4 Return  of  the  Dead :’ 

“‘The  bolt  flew  back  with  sudden  clang; 

I entered ; wall  and  rafter  rang.’ 

44  But  the  application  of  this  was  not  practical,  for  two 
reasons:  First,  there  was  no  bolt,  and  probably  there  never 
had  been  any;  and  second,  there  was  no  door,  and  with 
equal  probability,  there  may  never  have  been  any.  I thought 
of  the  two  lines  of  poetry  again,  and  at  once  concluded  that 
they  would  be  appropriate  if  I should  change  the  punctua- 
tion. Hence,  not  thinking  what  I was  about,  I repeated  the 
couplet  aloud: 

44  4 The  bolt  flew  back  with  sudden  clang; 

I entered  the  wall ; and  the  rafter  rang! 1 

“No  sooner  had  I repeated  the  lines  than  I adopted  the 
conclusion,  and  thought  to  try  the  experiment.  I called  to 
my  comrade: 

44  4 Come  on;  let’s  go  in,  and  see  what’s  here,  any  way.’ 

44  4 All  right,’  he  replied,  and  soon  was  around  on  my  side 
of  the  concern.  We  stepped  nearer  to  the  old  hull.  I put 
my  hand  against  a log  to  try  its  firmness.  That  whole  part 
of  the  building  fell  in!  Sure  enough,  I did  then  enter  the 
wall,  my  comrade  following.  We  were  now  inside  of  the 
building.  For  my  own  part,  I felt  a little  strange.  Every- 
thing was  quiet,  of  course.  I looked  around  carefully  with- 
out moving.  There  were  many  dark  corners,  and  many 
openings  to  the  habitation,  the  principal  one  of  which  was 
overhead;  in  fact,  the  entire  roof  was  made  of  sky.  We 
looked  and  listened  for  a moment  longer.  There  was  a slight 
dull  sound  that  startled  us.  ^ hen  there  was  an  unpleasant 
odor — perhaps  from  the  rotten  wood.  We  immediately  left 


268 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


the  premises,  but  the  scent  did  not  leave  us,  and  the  only 
unmistakable  and  unsatisfactory  conclusion  that  we  could 
adopt  was,  that  a certain  kind  of  a cat  lived  there. 

44  Undaunted  by  this,”  continued  the  narrator,  44  we  became 
only  the  more  determined  to  have  something  to  eat  before  re- 
turning, so  we  started  on  down  the  road.  Before  we  went  very 
far,  however,  we  saw  a light,  and  soon  found  this  proceeded 
from  the  present  abode  of  the  people  who  had  once  lived  in 
the  dilapidated  hulk  which  we  had  just  left.  We  were  now 
very  tired,  and  concluded  to  purchase  something  to  eat  instead 
of  looking  farther.  We  bought  six  chickens  and  a few  other 
things  for  five  dollars,  and,  to  the  relief  of  the  householders, 
made  a short  stay,  returning  hurriedly  to  the  boat  to  change 
our  clothing.  As  we  approached  the,  boat,” — 

44  Wait!”  said  the  commander  of  the  camp-fire.  44  Don’t 
tell  the  rest  of  it.” 

44  No!  your  story  is  too  long  now,”  added  the  reporter, 
and  the  comrade  sat  down  amidst  applause. 

Mr.  Crawley  then  supplemented  his  reminiscence  of 
Crawford  with  the  following: 

44  On  the  march  and  in  camp  Crawford  always  improved 
every  opportunity  to  make  fun  for  the  boys;  but  it  was  in 
4 winter-quarters’  where  his  propensity  for  fun  found  its  full 
vent.  With  the  aid  of  powder  he  invented  all  sorts  of  explo- 
sives, keeping  the  camp  in  a continual  uproar;  and  that,  too, 
without  getting  into  trouble.  He  was  always  able  to  conceal 
the  origin  of  his  mischief,  for,  while  many  ol  the  officers  and 
men  suspected  who  was  the  real  author  of  all  the  fuss,  but 
few  of  them  could  have  testified  to  it,  and  they  could  not  have 
been  induced  to  betray  him. 

44  One  evening,  I remember,  as  the  men  were  falling  in 
for  roll-call,  there  occurred  a terrific  explosion  which  created 
the  wildest  commotion.  Horses  broke  loose  from  the  picket- 
line; men  rushed  for  their  arms,  and  the  excitement  at  once 


270 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


spread  over  the  camp.  The  enemy  was  thought  to  be  right 
down  on  us,  and  immediate  preparations  began  to  be  made  to 
resist  an  attack.  The  adjutant  was  sent  to  investigate,  while 
the  regiment  sent  up  a yell  which  ended  in  a general  laugh, 
with  cries,  c Crawford  again!  Crawford  again!  ’ 

“ A little  later  I met  Crawford  with  the  same  sad  expres- 
sion on  his  face,  and  taking  me  aside,  he  showed  me  what, 
before  it  had  exploded,  had  been  a lead  cannon . 

“ ‘ How  did  it  come  to  explode?’  I asked;  for  after  burst- 
ing it  had  bulged  out  in  the  middle  and  had  more  the  appear- 
ance of  a steel  rat-trap,  when  set,  than  anything  else.  He 
was  now  seized  with  another  fit  of  laughter,  during  which  he 
caught  me  by  the  arm  and  executed  the  c Highland  Fling’ 
schottische  around  me,  occasionally  striking  me  in  the  back 
to  give  zest  to  the  performance. 

“ When  the  fit  was  over  he  said  that  he  took  half  a 
canteen  and  put  the  edge  of  it  on  a split  stick.  This  con- 
trivance served  as  a ladle  in  which  he  melted  bullets.  These 
he  poured  into  a miniature  well,  in  the  center  of  which  he 
had  placed  a small  round  stick  perpendicularly,  and  around 
the  stick  wrapped  a piece  of  wet  paper.  The  molten  lead 
was  then  poured  into  the  well  until  it  stood  above  the  end  of 
the  stick.  After  allowing  the  lead  time  to  cool  he  dug  it  out, 
pulled  out  the  stick,  filled  the  lead  cast  thus  obtained  with 
powder,  closed  the  muzzle  by  hammering  it  together,  bored  a 
hole  about  midway  between  the  breech  and  muzzle,  and  then 
:ne  concern  was  ready  for  business. 

Why  did  you  use  lead?’  I asked,  after  he  had  finished 
describing  the  process  of  manufacturing  the  bogus  cannon. 

“c  Because,’  he  replied,  c it  is  safe.  Lead  will  tear  apart 
but  not  break  into  pieces;  and  being  soft,  I could  close  the 
muzzle  and  get  a much  louder  report.  See?  And  then  if 
anybody  should  happen  to  find  it,  they  wouldn’t  know  what  to 
jdo  wvth  it;’  and  he  laughed  again. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  2*]l 

« I shall  never  forget  the  night  Crawford  persuaded  Jim 
Haliday  into  his  tent  to  play  ‘seven-up.’  Jim  was  a ‘recruit,’ 
and  had  just  begun  to  be  fascinated  by  the  game  of  cards. 
Crawford  had  always  felt  morally  obligated  to  teach  the 
recruits  all  the  methods  of  army  life,  and  generally  had  a 
new  mode  of  initiation  for  each  one.  Jim,  of  course,  could 
not  be  allowed  to  remain  long  in  camp  uninitiated. 

« On  this  particular  night,  Haliday  played  with  the  usual 
peculiar  luck  which  attends  beginners,  and  frequently  made 
‘high,  low,  jack  and  the  game,’  and  probably  could  have 
had  the  ‘gift,’  by  asking  for  it;  but  he  did  not  know  that  the 
piece  of  candle  which  burned  within  a foot  of  his  head  was 
loaded , nor  that  above  him  was  suspended  a bucket  of  watei 
neatly  on  a pivot  from  which  a small  cord  hung  innocently 
by  the  side  of  Crawford;  nor  was  he  aware  that  beneath 
him,  and  beside  the  box  on  which  he  sat,  lay  at  least  a quar- 
ter of  a pound  of  loose  powder . Haliday  held  wonderful 
hands;  he  had  just  scored  the  inevitable  ‘ high,  low,  jack  and 
the  game,’  and  the  eager,  flushed  face,  and  sparkling  eye, 
bespoke  the  excitement  and  pleasure  born  of  victory,  when 
the  candle  explodes  and  a piece  of  the  burning  wick  sets 
Haliday’s  hair  in  a blaze,  the  powder  is  ignited  beneath  him, 
and  while  he  and  Crawford  are  both  fighting  the  fire  in 
Haliday’s  fore-top,  Haliday  is  treated  to  a cold  shower  bath 
from  above.  Haliday  was  so  badly  frightened  that  he  never 
got  angry  until  next  day,  when  he  proposed  to  ‘lick  ’ Craw- 
ford; but  Crawford  convinced  him  that  the  true  policy  was 
to  claim,  that  while  writing  a letter  home  to  his  mother  in 
his  tent,  he  thoughtlessly  got  his  head  too  near  the  candle. 
Crawford  told  me  a few  days  after  this  episode,  while  con- 
vulsed with  laughter,  that  he  regarded  it  as  an  outrage  that 
so  few  of  the  boys  called  on  him  at  his  tent.  He  also  stated 
(and  I believe  truly)  that  the  setting  fire  to  Haliday’s  head, 
by  the  piece  of  burning  wick,  was  wholly  unforeseen  and 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


372 

unintended.  It  may  have  been  only  imaginative,  but  it  never 
seemed  to  me  that  Haliday  held  as  good  hands,  or  played 
the  game  with  the  same  eager,  unreserved,  child-like  con- 
fidence, that  he  did  before  he  encountered  Crawford. 

“ For  ‘ winter-quarters,’  near  Brownsville,  Arkansas,  some 
of  the  men  built  regular  log-houses  with  chimneys  and  fire- 
places; others  put  up  frame  structures,  six  feet  by  ten,  using  a 
tent  for  a roof,  but  even  these  structures  had  small  chimneys 
with  fire-places;  two  bunks  were  constructed,  one  above  the 
other,  at  right  angles  to  the  fire-place,  and  in  front  of  the 
lower  bunk  a board  or  box  was  placed  in  front  of  the  fire  for 
a seat.  One  dark  rainy  night  while  walking  down  the  ‘tent- 
xine,’  old  man  Seward  and  Bierman  jumped  out  of  the  top  of 
one  of  these  structures,  carrying  the  tent  roof  with  them,  fol- 
lowed by  a cloud  of  smoke  and  ashes.  I had  heard  a noise  be- 
fore I left  my  quarters,  but  noises  were  so  frequent  that  I paid 
no  particular  attention  to  this  one.  Seward  and  Bierman,  who 
‘bunked’  and  ‘messed’  together,  were  members  of  the  church, 
and  were  trying  to  lead  a consistent  life ; and  they  succeeded  as 
well  as  their  surroundings  would  permit,  but  it  was  a terribly 
uphill-business.  On  the  evening  in  question  it  seems  they 
had  ‘ read  a chapter,’  and  were  engaged  in  singing  the 
familiar  and  comforting  hymn: 

4 It  may  not  be  my  way, 

It  may  not  be  thy  way, 

And  yet,  in  His  own  way, 

The  Lord  will  provide,’ 

when  the  ‘back-log’  exploded,  and  threw  consternation, 
ashes,  live  coals,  and  burning  brands,  all  over  the  interior 
of  the  ‘domicile  of  the  faithful,’  and  Seward  and  Bierman, 
m the  excitement  and  hurry  of  the  moment,  and  doubtless 
as  a matter  of  convenience,  escaped  through  the  roof. 

“I  hunted  up  Crawford,  finding  him  in  his  bunk;  he 
reached  for  me,  and  clutching  me  tightly  by  the  arm 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  273 

with  one  hand,  with  the  other  he  would  stuff  the  cor- 
ner of  the  blanket  in  his  mouth,  and  shake  and  kick. 
He  finally  became  composed  enough  to  tell  me  that  it 
had  been  raining  all  day,  and  supposing  that  somebody 
would  need  a c back-log,’  he  had  prepared  one,  and  haa 
been  careful  not  to  cut  it  too  long ; that  with  a half-inch 
auger  he  had  bored  a half  dozen  holes  in  it  and  charged  them 
with  powder,  and  placed  it  where  everybody  must  pass  over 
it,  in  walking  up  and  down  the  ‘tent-line;’  ‘and  do  you 
know,’  said  he,  ‘ I watched  it  for  four  mortal  hours,  before 
anybody  took  up  with  it,  and  yet  every  man  in  the  company 
has  stepped  over  it,  from  one  to  three  times,  and  I know  that 
fully  two-thirds  of  them  were  out  of  wood,  and  too  lazy  to 
cut  any;  but  at  last  Bierman  carried  it  in,  and  he  and  Seward 
made  a good  fire  and  sat  down  and  began  to  sing  hymns. 
Everything  was  so  quiet  that  I began  to  grow  restless  ano 
uneasy,  and  concluded  to  drop  in  on  them  and  inquire  how 
they  were  getting  on;  they  were  very  friendly,  but  somehow 
I couldn’t  make  myself  at  home,  and  presently  when  a piece 
of  the  bark  of  the  ‘ back-log’  threw  the  ‘ fore-stick  ’ into  mv 
lap,  I told  them  I guessed  I would  go,  that  it  was  getting 
late,  that  I had  been  ‘on  duty’  the  night  before,  and  wa* 
tired  and  sleepy;  they  mentioned  that  the  wood  was  green 
and  popped  badly,  and  I told  them  that  I had  noticed  the 
same  thing  myself;  as  I was  leaving  they  were  re-adjusting 
the  ‘ fore-stick  ’ and  sweeping  up  the  litter,  but  before  I go? 
to  my  tent  I heard  her  go  off,  and  saw  them  climbing  ouT, 
through  the  top;  then  I got  in  my  bunk  with  my  boots  on, 
and  began  to  snore.  I am  glad  I called  on  them,  for  I would 
hate  to  have  them  suspect  me ,’  and  again  he  clutched  me  by 
the  arm  and  stuffed  the  blanket  in  his  mouth,  and  shook  and 
kicked.  I always  thought  that  Seward  suspicioned  Crawford 
as  in  some  way  connected  with  his  being  blown  up,  and 
Crawford  thought  so  too,  for  he  told  me  that  he  noticed 
18 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


274 

a change  in  his  manner.  But  in  the  fight  at  Mulberry  Creek 
Seward  had  his  horse  shot  under  him,  and  while  fooling 
around  trying  to  save  his  saddle,  a retreat  was  ordered,  and 
the  Oid  man  was  left  behind,  nearly  4 tuckered  out,’  and  the 
surroundings  generally  were  unpleasant.  Crawford  went 
back  and  took  him  on  behind  him  and  got  away  with  him, 
fraternally,  as  well  as  physically.  When  the  news  reached 
us  that  Lee  and  Johnston  had  surrendered  to  Grant  and 
Sherman,  that  the  Southern  Confederacy  had  collapsed,  and 
the  war  was  over,  we  were  inhaling  the  perfume  of  the 
.magnolia,  and  a grateful  sense  of  peace  took  the  place  of  the 
hideous  nightmare  of  civil  war  that  had  oppressed  us  for 
four  long  terrible  years,  and  all  eyes,  except  Crawford’s, 
turned  gladly  homeward.  He  alone  seemed  gloomy  and 
despondent,  and  went  about  with  the  air  and  expression  of 
one  who  had  been  deeply  wronged  and  injured.  I ventured 
to  inquire  the  cause,  and  he  told  me  that  he  had  prepared  a 
series  of  entertainments  for  the  boys  that  would  consume  at 
least  a year,  and  yet  the  war  had  been  abruptly  brought  to  a 
close,  that  he  had  no  notice  of  it,  and  had  not  even  been  con- 
sulted in  the  matter,  and  that  he  knew  the  boys  would  be 
disappointed.  I do  not  know  whether  he  is  still  alive  or  not, 
but  if  he  is  living,  and  his  eye  should  rest  upon  this  brief, 
hasty  narrative,  I am  sure  he  would  not  be  offended,  for  two 
reasons:  First,  because  it  is  literally  true,  and  secondly, 

because  there  never  was  and  never  will  be,  two  more  devoted 
frienus  rhan  we.” 


CAMP-FIRE  XXV. 


A RAW  RECRUIT’S  ANXIETY— ANOTHER  STORY  ABOUT 

ANOTHER  MULE ON  THE  ST.  FRANCIS  RIVER— A 

GENERAL  INCOG.  REFUSED  A CUP  OF  COFFEE A CON* 

FEDERATE’S  IDEA  OF  WHAT  THE  GOSPEL  IS. 

||j||S  the  tones  of  the  previous  speaker  died  away  with  the 
| soft  noise  of  the  wind  through  the  branches  of  the  trees 
that  overhung  the  glowing  embers  of  the  fire,  R.  C, 
Coyner,  of  the  38th  Indiana,  Vol.  Inf.,  remarked:  “I  haa 

just  enlisted  from  the  school-room  at  Hanover  College,  neai 
Madison,  Ind.,  when  we  were  ordered  by  General  Sherman 
to  head  off  Buckner,  who  was  raiding  the  northern  part  of 
Kentucky.  We  were  in  company  with  the  Louisville 
Legion,  the  6th  Indiana,  the  1st  Ohio,  and  the  15th  Indiana 
regulars.  We  were  all  raw  recruits  except  the  15th  Indiana, 
and  knew  about  as  much  concerning  discipline  and  drill  as  so 
many  school-boys;  nevertheless,  we  thought  ourselves  the 
flower  of  the  army.  After  leaving  New  Albany,  Ind.,  we 
inarched  to  Louisville,  then  took  the  cars  to  Lebanon 
Junction,  and  then  marched  to  Elizabethtown,  Ky.  After  we 
reached  this  point  we  went  into  camp. 

“ One  day  Captain  Pointdexter,  our  captain,  detailed  me 
for  detached  service,  and  I was  ordered  to  report  at  General 
Sherman’s  headquarters.  Upon  my  arrival  I was  put  in 
command  of  a squad  whose  duty  was  to  guard  the  general’s 
quarters.  I relieved  the  guard  on  duty,  and  posted  my  men 
to  the  best  of  my  ability.  The  day  grew  apace,  and  toward 
night  General  Sherman  emerged  from  his  tent  and  began  to 

275 


276  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

pace  a beat  in  front,  with  his  hands  behind  him,  and  his  head 
bent  forward,  seemingly  in  a brown  study.  My  inexperience 
and  unfamiliarity  with  the  scenes  and  customs  of  military 
service  rendered  me  all  the  more  alive  to  my  ideas  of  a sol- 
dier’s duty,  and  as  I beheld  our  commander  pacing  to  and  fro, 
the  idea  occurred  to  me  that  the  responsibility  of  guarding 
our  general  was  one  of  no  mean  importance.  We  had  no  idea 
of  the  proximity  of  the  rebel  forces,  but  the  night  was  coming 
on  and  I began  to  fear  that,  in  case  of  a surprise,  the  guard 
was  ill  fitted  to  protect  the  person  of  our  chieftain.  The 
more  I thought  of  it,  the  more  solicitous  I felt. 

44  At  length  I concluded  that  I would  ask  the  genera]  if 
it  would  not  be  the  proper  thing  to  double  the  guard  about 
the  headquarters. 

44  Accordingly  I stepped  up,  and  after  saluting  the  gen- 
eral, asked: 

44 4 General,  don’t  you  think  it  would  be  a good  thing  to 
double  the  guard  for  the  night?  ’ 

44  The  general  looked  at  me  in  a surprised  sort  oi  way,  and 
said,  after  a moment’s  reflection* 

44  4 What  did  you  say  ? ’ 

“ 4 Don’t  you  think  the  guard  should  be  doubled  for  the 
night?’  I repeated. 

4 Sir,  you  are  drunk!’  was  the  replv  that  fell  upon  my 
astonished  ears. 

44  4 General,  I mean  what  I say — you  can  make?  inquiry 
of  my  colonel  and  captain  as  to  my  habits  if  you  nave  any 
doubts  as  to  my  sobriety,’  I ventured  to  remark. 

44  The  general  laughed  in  an  amused  kind  of  way,  and 
raising  his  long  arm  and  waving  me  a curious  salute,  said: 

44  4 Ah,  I have  been  accustomed  to  having  regulars  for  my 
guard.  1 do  not  think  there  is  any  use  of  doubling  the  guard 
to-night,  sir.’ 

44  The  full  force  of  his  remark  did  not  dawn  upon  my 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR  2^ 

peaceful  mind  until  I had  seen  more  service,  but  I can  assure 
you,  boys,  that  I know  now  just  what  he  meant.” 

Comrade  Coyner’s  anecdote  brought  a smile  to  the  face 
of  every  veteran  present,  and  each  recalled  the  first  time  he 
shouldered  his  musket  and  went  with  a squad  of  “ greenies,” 
of  whom  which  was  the  greenest  it  was  hard  to  tell,  to  learn 
the  drill. 

The  smiles  were  still  lingering  upon  the  fire-lit  faces, 
when  comrade  Coyner  supplemented  his  story  with  the 
following: 

“At  the  battle  of  Perry ville,  and,  by  the  way,  boys,  that 
was  one  of  the  hottest  fights  I saw  during  my  three  years  of 
service,  I noticed  a mule  out  in  front  of  our  line,  and  directly 
in  the  line  of  fire,  quietly  grazing.  He  continued  to  nibble 
the  grass  as  unconcernedly  as  though  he  were  a thousand 
miles  away  from  a battlefield.  I was  wondering  at  the 
splendid  nonchalance  of  the  long-eared  beast,  when  a small 
cannon  ball  struck  him  in  the  upper  part  of  the  neck  and 
tore  a huge  hole.  The  animal  staggered  a little,  and,  as  if 
unmindful  of  his  hurt,  began  to  graze  again,” — 

“ How  big  was  the  ball  that  hit  him?”  asked  an  ex-army 
teamster. 

“ Well,  I ahould  judge  it  was  a twelve-pound  shot, 
judging  from  the  size  of  the  hole  it  made,”  replied  comrade 
Coyner. 

The  audible  smiles  of  those  present  made  the  air  quiver 
with  fun,  and  the  good-natured  elves  who  have  always  been 
in  attendance  upon  the  scribe  of  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  during  his 
stay  at  these  camp-fires,  indulged  in  a fantastic  minuet  in 
order  to  allay  their  propensity  to  get  into  mischief. 

A broad  smile  irradiated  the  visage  of  J.  O.  Henderson  of 
the  8oth  Ohio,  who  related  the  following: 

“We  were  lying  at  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Francis  River,  a 
small,  swiftly-flowing  stream  which  empties  into  the  Missis- 


278 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


sippi  above  Helena,  and  one  afternoon  we  were  detailed  to 
board  a small  stern-wheeled  steamer,  and  go  up  the  river  to 
capture  some  Confederate  commissary  stores.  We  got  off 
finally,  yet  we  made  but  little  progress,  as  the  river  was 
very  swift,  and  our  boat  ill  adapted  to  stem  such  a swift 
current. 

“ We  puffed  and  wheezed  along  at  a snail-like  pace,  hug- 
ging the  shore,  and  the  night  came  on.  The  weather  was 
misty,  and  the  night  pitch  dark.  We  ran  out  of  wood 
and  went  ashore  to  get  a supply.  Having  loaded  up,  we  cast 
and  swung  into  the  current.  After  some  hours’  steaming  we 
ran  out  of  wood  the  second  time,  and  seeing  a light  on  shore, 
hailed  it,  and  asked  if  we  could  get  wood  there.  The  reply 
being  in  the  affirmative,  we  landed  and  again  renewed  our 
stock  of  fuel.  Again  we  cast  off,  and  went  on  our  way. 

“ Toward  morning  we  were  also  in  need  of  fuel,  and 
hailing  another  light,  arranged  to  obtain  more  wood,  the 
owner  saying  as  we  touched  the  shore: 

“ c I guess  that  you  can  have  it  at  $3.00,  bein’  as  you  fel- 
lers have  got  wood  here  twice  before  to-night!’ 

“ The  fact  was  we  had  not  been  over  half  a mile  from 
that  wood  yard  all  night  long,  and  when  it  was  light  enough 
to  see,  it  was  apparent  that  our  vessel  could  not  make  any 
progress.  We  therefore  turned  around  and  went  back.” 

The  amanuensis  of  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  having  made  his 
notes  of  the  foregoing,  was  sharpening  his  pencil  for  fur- 
ther work,  when  a comrade  of  Smith  Hancock  of  Co.  D, 
80th  Ohio,  narrated  this  incident: 

“ While  we  were  encamped  near  Farmington,  down  in 
Mississippi,  Smith  Hancock  had  built  a fire  one  morning  and 
was  cooking  his  breakfast,  when  General  Hamilton  came 
along  with  a small  coffee-pot  in  his  hand,  and  asked  if  he 
might  make  some  coffee. 

<4tNaw,  ye  can’t!’  said  Hancock. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  279 

“‘Well,*  said  the  general,  * Pm  half  sick,  and  I want  to 
make  a cup  of  coffee.  I won't  disturb  your  cooking  at  all.’ 

“ ‘ Oh,  go  to  h — 1 and  make  your  coffee,’  retorted  Hancock. 

“Notwithstanding  the  protest,  the  general  placed  his  coffee- 
pot on  the  fire,  when  Hancock  stepped  up  and  kicked  it  away 
some  twenty  feet,  and  said : 

“ ‘ Lookee  here,  if  you  try  that  again,  I’ll  lick  h — 1 out  of 
you ! ’ 

“‘All  right,’  ©aid  the  new  comer,  who  began  to  pull  off 
his  coat. 

“ As  his  coat  came  off,  Hancock  saw  the  general’s  stars, 
and  he  uttered  an  expression  of  surprise  and  bolted  into  the 
bushes,  as  if  the  Old  Nick  was  after  him.  We  could  hear 
him  crashing  through  the  bushes  for  three  hundred  yards. 

“ It  wasn’t  ten  minutes  until  the  story  spread  among  the 
Doys,  and,  as  it  went  along,  the  yell  went  up,  and  the  progress 
of  the  yarn  could  be  plainly  distinguished  along  the  line. 

“ Hancock  did  not  come  in  for  a week,  and  when  he  did 
put  in  an  appearance  the  boys  tormented  the  life  nearly  out 
of  him.” 

“ Another  funny  thing  occurred  down  in  Vicksburg,”  said 
a gray- haired  man  who  had  listened  attentively  to  all  that  had 
been  said.  “Chaplain  Howard,  of  the  42d  Illinois,  approached 
a knot  of  Confederate  prisoners  and  accosted  a long,  lean, 
lank  specimen,  with: 

“‘My  friend,  heve  you  the  Gosf  ;1  among  you?’ 

“‘Waal,  I can’t  tell  ye,  stranger;  I dunno  nuthin’  about 
it  here — don’t  think  we’ve  got  it,  but  I hearn  that  it  has  broke 
out  awful  bad  down  in  Camp  Douglas!’ 

“ The  Confederate  thought  the  chaplain  was  talking 
about  some  disease. 

“ As  soon  as  the  chaplain  recovered  from  his  surprise  he 
retreated  in  good  order,  and  before  night-fall  the  story  was 
all  over  camp.” 


THE  LATEST  NEWS. 


CAMP-FIRE  XXVI. 


THE  SEQUEL  TO  THE  FARMER  AND  THE  WATERMELONS  — 
THE  UN-WISDOM  OF  A RAW  RECRUIT — A JOKE  ON 
THE  GENERAL THE  TEMPERANCE  MAJOR THE  CAP- 

TAIN WHO  DIDN’T  WATER  HIS  WHISKEY. 

STN  August,  1864,”  said  Mr.  A.  M.  Peck,  “ our  regiment 
|j1  was  stationed  at  Paducah,  Ky.,  and  a little  incident 
^ occurred  there  which  is  similar  to  one  told  at  the  first 
camp-fire.  Realizing  that  the  soldiers  were  often  without 
fresh  vegetables  for  weeks  at  a time,  and  sometimes  without 
any,  the  citizens  frequently  brought  garden  truck,  fruit,  mel- 
ons, etc.,  into  camp,  where  such  things  usually  found  a ready 
market,  especially  when  the  prices  were  anywhere  near 
reasonable.  But  occasionally  there  would  a fellow  come 
along,  who  had  most  wonderful  ideas  of  the  value  of  his 
goods,  vividly  reminding  us  of  the  sutler.  To  pay  for  the 
privilege  of  selling  to  the  boys  the  traders  usually  took  a 
liberal  measure  to  headquarters. 

“ One  pleasant  day  the  cry  of  c Here’s  yermule!’  rang 
through  the  camp.  All  the  boys  were  on  the  alert  for  some 
fun,  if  it  was  to  be  had.  The  mule  was  a small  one, 
hitched  to  a dilapidated  old  wagon,  with  an  old  skeleton  of  a 
horse  which  one  would  think  would  need  weather-boarding 
to  keep  the  hay  that  he  ate  from  blowing  away. 

u In  the  wagon  were  a few  bushels  of  apples,  but  from 
their  appearance  one  could  never  guess  what  they  really 
were;  knotty  things  about  the  size  of  green  walnuts,  black 
an  1 muddy  from  having  lain  on  the  ground  so  long  before 

a8f 


283 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


gathering,  and  were  really  unfit  for  first-class  hog-feed. 
In  all  probability  the  apples  had  once  been  thrown  to  the 
swine,  which  had  turned  away  from  them,  the  apple  merchant 
then  collecting  and  offering  them  to  the  soldiers.  He  had 
heard  that  anything  eatable  could  be  sold  to  soldiers  at  a big 
price,  and  now  expected  to  make  a small  fortune. 

“ But  his  hopes  soon  vanished.  The  boys  gathered  around, 
and  of  course  sampled  the  apples  as  fast  as  they  could. 
Only  a few,  however,  were  fit  to  be  sampled.  The  driver 
thus  saw  the  choicest  (if  this  adjective  is  applicable)  pieces 
of  his  fruit  rapidly  vanishing  without  any  pecuniary  return,  or 
even  promise  of  such.  He  at  once  concluded  to  make  a des- 
perate effort  to  save  what  was  left,  and  whipped  away  at  his 
sad-faced  donkey  and  his  almost  fleshless  horse,  until  first  the 
horse  and  then  the  donkey  began  to  approach  something  like 
a trot,  as  near  as  could  be  judged  by  soldiers  who  had  had 
considerable  experience  in  equestrianism  before  the  war. 
But  before  the  celerity  of  the  team  attained  the  before- men- 
tioned desired  gait,  the  top  of  a hill  was  reached,  which 
achievement,  however,  was  made  after  a certain  other  event 
took  place,  namely:  The  boys  kept  even  pace  with  the  wagon, 
and  also  kept  abstracting  apples  therefrom  until  the  vehicle 
had  been  dragged  nearly  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  when,  by 
some  sleight-of-hand,  one  of  the  boys  slipped  out  the  hind 
gate  of  the  wagon  box,  and,  sad  to  tell,  the  countryman’s 
apples,  severally  and  collectively,  suddenly  retreated  and 
were  captured  by  a large  number  of  soldiers,  who  were  in  the 
reserve,  while  the  driver,  now  finding  it  easy  to  persuade  the 
mule  and  the  horse  to  proceed  faster  on  account  of  the  down 
grade, — looked  not  back,  but  accepted  the  result,  sadly  con- 
cluding that  there  was  great  falsehood  in  the  rumor  he  had 
heard  about  such  high  prices  being  obtained  from  soldiers  foi 
such  a low  grade  of  fruit.” 

Mr.  W.  B.  Cowan  then  said  that  he  remembered  an 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  283 

incident  about  raw  recruits,  “ while  on  the  march  to  Atlanta, 
that  created  fun  for  us  soldiers. 

“ As  was  our  custom,  we  had  halted  along  the  road  for  a 
tew  minutes’  rest,  and  as  soon  as  the  4 Halt ' was  sounded  every 
fellow  immediately  tumbled  down  into  a fence  corner,  or 
where  the  fence  corner  should  have  been,  in  order  to  get  all 
the  rest  possible  before  the  4 Forward’  was  sounded.  All  the 
old  regiments  at  that  time  had  received  a good  many  new 
recruits,  and  they  had  not  become  acustomed  to  old  soldiers’ 
ways.  When  we  would  halt  for  a rest,  new  recruits  would  be 
passing  frequently,  to  catch  up  with  their  regiments.  You 
could  always  recognize  one  of  them  by  the  load  he  carried — 
a big  knapsack  with  a change  of  clothes,  a blanket  or  two, 
and  almost  always  with  the  bayonet  on  his  gun.  We  halted 
one  warm  day  away  down  in  Georgia,  and  one  of  those  re- 
cruits, with  an  unusual  big  load  on  his  back,  and  a new,  bright 
bayonet  on  his  gun,  came  dragging  himself  along,  when  one 
of  the  old  boys  in  our  regiment,  a droll  wag  of  a fellow,  raised 
up  on  his  elbow,  took  a good  long  look  at  the  recruit,  and 
said:  4 Hello,  soldier!’  The  fellow  stopped.  4 Where  did 

you  git  that  gun  sharpened?’  The  fellow  could  make  no 
answer.  It  raised  a yell  that  did  not  die  out  until  the  recruit 
had  gone  out  of  sight.” 

The  drum  major  of  the  72d  Illinois  Infantry,  Mr.  Edward 
B.  Potter,  then  said,  that  44  immediately  after  the  fight  at 
Franklin,  Tenn.,  (I  have  forgotten  the  date),  the  supplies 
were,  for  some  unknown  reason,  slow  in  coming — so  much 
so,  that  our  regiment  was  fed  on  roasted  corn  for  about  five 
days.  Of  course  some  of  the  boys  objected,  and  cursed  the 
government  for  not  having  better  food  ready  for  them  at  the 
proper  time;  but  they  composed  a very  small  per  cent.  The 
great  majority  laughed  and  chatted,  taking  it  all  in  good  fun, 
and  watched  their  opportunity  to  play  a joke  on  the  general. 
After  a few  days  ot  corn  rations,  and  immediately  after 


284  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

breakfast  one  morning,  an  orderly  sergeant  of  one  of  the 
companies  took  a rope  and  tying  six  or  eight  of  the  comrades 
in  a string,  started  down  the  road.  Wondering  what  on 
earth  the  sergeant  meant,  the  astonished  general  rode  up  and 
inquired: 

44  4 What  in  (Hades)  is  the  matter  here?  What  have 
these  men  done,  sir,  that  they  should  be  treated  in  this 
manner  ? ’ 

44  4 Well,  general,  said  the  sergeant,  with  a very  guilty 
look,  as  if  he  had  really  assumed  the  authority  to  punish  the 
boys  for  some  supposed  wrong, — 4 well,  general,  I have  just 
fed  my  mules  their  corn,  and  am  now  taking  them  down  to 
water.’ 

44  4 Ha!  ha!  ha!’  burst  from  all  who  could  hear  the  remark, 
which,  indeed,  was  loud  enough. 

44  4 Sold  again!’  said  the  general,  who  kindly  saluted  them 
and  rode  off.” 

44  As  short  stories  seem  to  be  in  order,  here  is  one,” 
remarked  a comrade  from  the  East,  a guest  at  the  camp-fire. 

44  In  the  fall  of  ’64  the  artillery  brigade  to  which  I was 
attached,  was  under  the  command  of  a major  from  Maine, 
who  had  unfortunately  departed  from  the  temperance  princi- 
ples for  which  that  State  has  for  so  many  years  been  noted. 
It  was  my  misfortune  for  a time  to  have  charge  of  the  whis- 
key at  the  headquarters,  to  which  the  major’s  brigade  was 
attached,  and  many  laughable  incidents  occurred,  one  of 
which  comes  back  fresh  to  my  mind  on  the  present  occasion. 

44  In  anticipation  of  his  birthday,  and  a celebration  with 
friends,  as  I surmised,  the  major,  the  day  previous  to  that  an- 
niversary, rode  up  to  headquarters  and  accosting  me  by  name, 
inquired  how  much  whiskey  I had  on  hand. 

44  Not  thinking  our  supply  of  stimulant  needed  in  the 
direction  mentioned,  the  major  already  being  far  too  much 
under  its  influence,  I evaded  a true  statement,  and  replied: 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


285 


‘“Only  a small  quantity,  major.’ 

“Not  satisfied,  he  again  put  the  question  in  the  same 
thick,  unsteady  voice  before  used.  This  time,  still  wishing  to 
convey  the  idea  of  a very  limited  quantity,  I answered: 

“‘  I may  have  about  two  gallons.’ 

“ The  major  straightened  himself  up  as  best  he  could 
and,  with  a most  disappointed  and  disdainful  look,  exclaimed: 

‘“What  is,  hie,  two  gallons  of  whiskey  among  one  man!’ 
and  slowly  rode  away. 

“And  let  me  tell  you  in  this  connection  about  the  captain, 
having  charge  of  the  commissary  department  at  the  head- 
quarters of  the  corps  lying  next  to  ours,  who  did  not  water 
his  whiskey. 

“ Riding  upon  one  occasion  with  several  fellow  officers  to 
our  headquarters,  they  all  dismounted  and  came  in,  as  they  said^ 
to  sample  our  whiskey.  I immediately  set  before  them  the 
best  we  had,  which  was  considered  a fair  article  for  army  use. 

“ But  the  captain,  after  imbibing,  declared  it  to  be  very 
thin  and  badly  watered  (a  statement  containing  more  truth 
than  poetry),  and  invited  us  to  ride  over  to  his  corps  where 
we  should  be  furnished  with  the  c simon  pure  ’ article,  which 
we  could  water  to  suit  ourselves. 

“ The  invitation  was  at  once  accepted,  as  good  whiskey 
was  very  scarce  at  that  time,  and  no  opportunity  was  allowed 
to  pass  unaccepted  by  those  accustomed  to  the  beverage. 

“ On  arriving  at  his  quarters  a fresh  barrel  was  tapped,  a 
measure  drawn  off,  and  the  glasses  filled.  I noticed  some- 
thing peculiar  in  my  glass,  and  while  the  captain  was  calling 
attention  to  the  fact  that  his  whiskey  was  not  watered,  I ex- 
tracted from  the  contents  of  the  glass  given  me  a little  dead 
fish  about  an  inch  in  length,  which  had  doubtless  come  from 
the  brook  that  flowed  at  the  rear  of  the  captain’s  commissary 
tent,  and  holding  it  up  to  the  gaze  of  all  just  as  he  concluded 
his  remarks,  I asked" 


286 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR 


“ 4 Do  you  suppose  such  a specimen  as  this  to  be  contained 
in  all  pure  Bourbon  from  Kentucky,  captain  ? ’ 

“ The  look  of  consternation  that  overspread  his  face 
can  better  be  imagined  than  described,  and  he  never  after 
boasted  the  superior  purity  and  strength  of  his  whiskey  over 
that  of  others.” 


CAMP-FIRE  XXVII 


HOME  ON  A FURLOUGH A PREMONITION  OF  DEATH— 

HOURS  OF  PERIL. 

fURLOUGHS,”  said  one  present,  who  had  taken  a very 
^ active  part  in  the  home  end  of  the  war,  “ reminds  me  of 
an  experience  of  John  Curry,  who  came  home  in  the 
spring  of  1864,  I think,  for  a short  rest.  He  had  been  gone 
three  years,  in  which  time  he  became  inured  to  the  customs 
of  army  life,  and  was  indeed  a splendid  example  of  how  a man 
may  change  nearly  his  entire  life,  especially' his  every-day 
habits  and  his  health,  simply  by  change  of  surroundings, — 
provided  these  are  at  all  favorable,  and  he  adapts  himself  to 
them. 

u Mr.  Curry  had  been  home  only  a few  days  when  1 called 
to  congratulate  him  on  his  safe  return.  His  description  of 
camp-life  and  recollection  of  incidents  then  fresh  in  his 
memory,  seemed  almost  endless,  but  were  none  the  less  inter- 
esting.  I sat  with  my  mouth  and  eyes  open  for  two  and  a 
half  hours,  or  longer,  and  listened  with  all  possible  attention. 

44  I accepted  a second  invitation  to  come  around  again  in  the 
afternoon,  and  was  there  promptly. 

“ The  happy  face  of  Mrs.  Curry  welcomed  me  at  the  door. 
Her  voice,  I noticed,  still  had  the  accent  of  the  Fatherland,  as 
she  invited  me  in  and  told  me  that  she  did  not  like  to  arouse 
her  husband,  who  was  then  asleep  and  needed  all  the  rest  he 
could  get.  She  then  entertained  me  by  telling  how  different 
her  husband  seemed  4 since  he  vas  in  dzhe  war,’  particularly 
as  regarded  his  food.  Perk  and  beans  were  very  relishable 


288 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


to  him  now,  but  three  years  previous  he  could  eat  nothing  but 
the  best  of  beefsteak;  she  said  corn-meal  cakes  were  better 
than  pastry,  and  coffee  with  cream  and  sugar  in  it  was  not  fit 
to  drink,  he  thought.  She  hardly  knew  how  to  prepare  any- 
thing for  his  taste.  He  had  undergone  another  radical  change; 
he  would  not  sleep  in  a bed,  but  when  the  sunshine  was  warm 
enough  would  take  two  rails,  place  them  about  a foot  apart, 
with  one  end  of  each  resting  on  the  yard  fence  and  the  other 
ends  on  the  ground,  then  lie  down  on  the  slant  thus  formed, 
and  sleep  for  two  or  three  hours.  He  was  now  sleeping  on 
the  floor  in  the  adjoining  room,  and  she  asked  me  to  step 
in  and  see  how  comfortable  he  looked.  I did  so,  and  indeed, 
he  was  the  personification  of  comfort. 

“It  recurred  to  my  mind  that  if  some  of  the  chronic 
growlers  from  general  debility  would  shoulder  a musket  for 
a few  months,  or  engage  in  some  similar  occupation  as  trying 
to  the  body,  thereby  creating  the  demand  upon  the  stomach 
for  food,  there  would  be  less  dyspepsia  and  grumbling,  and 
more  health  and  happiness. 

44  4 Schon!  Schon!!’  called  Mrs.  Curry,  with  her  usual 
accent,  now  concluding  that  her  husband  had  slept  long 
enough.  But  John  did  not  awaken.  The  same  deep,  con- 
tented breathings  were  still  regularly  drawn. 

“ 4 Schon!  Schon / ’ she  called  again,  but  could  not  arouse 
him. 

“ 4 Let  me  show  you  how  to  wake  him,’  I suggested,  at  the 
same  time  telling  her  that  as  he  had  not  heard  his  first  name 
called  for  three  years  he  had  probably  failed  to  recognize  the 
sound,  especially  when  he  was  asleep. 

44  4 All  right,’  she  replied. 

“ 4 To  arms!  ’ I said  sharply,  and  John  bounded  to  his  feet 
so  suddenly,  with  a motion  of  shouldering  arms,  that  both  of 
us  were  startled.  After  comprehending  the  situation  he 
rubbed  his  nose  and  eyes,  then,  after  a little  explanation  on 
my  part,  we  were  again  talking  over  old  time  experiences.” 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  ClVlL  WAR.  289 

Mr.  Bailey  then  gave  this  reminiscence  of  a death  presenti- 
ment to  a comrade  at  the  battle  of  Fredericksburg: 

“ It  was  the  night  before  the  battle  that  six  of  us,  all  of 
Company  H,  stretched  our  weary  limbs  under  the  warm  cover 
of  an  A tent  to  get  rest  and  strength  for  the  struggle  on  the 
morrow.  The  evening  before  had  witnessed  the  close  of  the 
bombardment  of  Fredericksburg,  and  the  day  had  been  occu- 
pied by  the  crossing  of  the  Union  Army  over  the  Rappahan- 
nock, and  the  usual  marches  and  counter  marches  requisite 
to  getting  into  position.  Our  army  lay  in  the  open  plain 
which  intervened  between  the  south  bank  of  the  river  and  the 
range  of  mountains  back  of  the  city,  both  flanks  resting  on 
the  river,  with  the  center  pushed  forward  about  a mile  and  a 
half,  forming  an  oval  line  three  or  four  miles  long.  Our  posi- 
tion in  the  line  was  the  right  center  of  the  left  grand  division, 
commanded  by  Major-General  Franklin.  In  the  wooded 
hills  in  front,  blue  with  the  smoke  of  camp-fires,  lay  the  rebel 
army  in  ominous  silence  watching  our  every  movement,  and 
quietly  waiting  for  the  battle  sure  to  come  with  the  dawn  of 
another  day.  In  our  immediate  front  lay  the  corps  of  Stone- 
wall Jackson,  with  whom  we  had  measured  strength  on 
several  previous  occasions,  and  with  whom  we  were  again  to 
dispute  for  the  possession  of  the  natural  fortifications  of  which 
they  had  taken  advantage.  The  cavalry,  artillery  and  infantry 
had  been  placed  in  position,  and  our  patriotic  commander, 
General  Burnside,  had  ridden  along  the  whole  line  at  the 
close  of  the  day  to  personally  inspect  the  entire  position. 
Already  the  darkening  shades  of  the  clear,  cool,  December 
night,  was  hushing  into  silence  the  two  great  armies,  and  the 
twinkling  stars  were  looking  down  upon  the  fatal  plains  so 
soon  to  be  filled  with  dead  and  mangled  men. 

“ Our  suppers  had  been  finished,  pipes  smoked,  tents  pitched, 
and  we  prepared  for  our  last  sleep  before  the  battle.  Our 
gallant  Captain  Carle,  a regular  army  soldier,  had  been 

19 


2QO 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 


wounded  at  second  Bull  Run;  was  not  yet  fit  for  duty,  though 
he  had  accompanied  us  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  the  battle; 
Lieutenant  Pratt,  recently  married  to  a young  and  lovely  girl, 
had  returned  from  a furlough  home  only  a few  weeks  before, and 
was  temporarily  in  command  of  the  company;  Jack  Gibney, 
he  whose  skillful  hands  prepared  the  salt  horse  and  coffee  for 
all  hands;  Jimmy  Moore  and  Hobart  Ripley, noble, generous 
hearted  boys  as  ever  carried  a musket,  and  the  writer,  lay 
down  that  night  together  under  the  only  A tent  of  which  our 
company  could  boast,  and  were  soon  wrapped  in  peaceful 
slumber.  And  yet  all  did  not  sleep  that  night.  About  mid- 
night I felt  a pull  at  my  elbow,  and  rousing  up  saw  Lieutenant 
Pratt  bending  over  me,  motioning  for  me  to  come  out  of  the 
tent  without  disturbing  our  sleeping  comrades.  W e had  been 
warm  friends  and  next  door  neighbors  for  years  before  enter- 
ing the  army,  and  I thought  I had  for  some  days  detected  a 
shade  of  sadness  in  his  countenance,  and  more  than  once  had 
found  him  engrossed  in  melancholy  thought,  but  I had  at- 
tributed it  to  the  fact  that  his  mind  was  on  the  wife  and  friends 
he  had  so  recently  left  behind  him.  We  walked  out  to  the 
dying  embers  of  the  fire  and  sat  down  for  some  moments 
without  speaking;  he  probably  thinking  whether  or  not  it 
would  be  better  to  tell  what  was  on  his  mind,  and  I waiting 
to  hear. 

“ At  last,  with  deep  feeling,  he  said : 

u c F — , I have  had  a premonition  of  death.  Six  weeks  ago, 
while  on  my  way  from  home,  I stopped  in  Washington  over 
Sunday,  and  on  Sunday  evening  attended  church.  When  I 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  church  the  gas  lights  dimmed, 
and  then  recovered  their  usual  brightness.  The  presentiment 
came  to  me  in  a moment,  that  I should  be  killed  in  the  next 
battle,  and  I have  not  been  able  to  overcome  it  since.  I fee!  as 
certain,  as  that  you  and  I are  here,  that  I shall  be  killed  to- 
morrow.’ 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


29I 


“ I tried  with  the  best  argument  I could  to  dissuade  him 
from  the  idea,  and  to  show  him  the  fallacy  of  tracing  any  con- 
nection between  a thing  which  he  had  so  often  seen  and  was 
of  such  common  occurrence  in  his  own  life.  But  argument 
was  useless,  and  he  seemed  as  sure  of  his  death  as  though  it 
were  a positive  certainty.  I knew  that  he  was  morally  and 
physically  a brave  man,  and  his  deeply  religious  soul  would 
have  rebelled  against  anything  like  superstition,  so  that  his 
feelings  could  not  be  attributed  to  cowardice,  or  a desire  to 
shirk  the  dangers  before  us;  besides,  he  had  been  tried  on 
hard-fought  fields,  and  proved  true  as  steel.  With  him  the 
idea  was  a wrought  conviction  admitting  no  doubt,  and  I 
pitied  him  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart;  though  not  a 
believer  in  presentiments,  I could  not  feel  with  him  that  his 
death  was  a foregone  conclusion.  After  an  hour’s  conversa- 
tion on  the  subject  we  again  retired;  he  to  a sleepless  prepara- 
tion for  the  death  of  which  he  felt  so  sure,  I to  indulge  in 
selfish  slumber. 

“ With  the  first  breath  of  dawn  we  were  aroused  to  eat  a 
hearty  breakfast  and  fall  into  line.  A dense  fog  covered  the 
whole  plain,  and  we  moved  cautiously  forward,  unable  to  see 
‘more  than  a few  yards.  Soon  a skirmish  line  encountered 
the  rebel  pickets,  who  promptly  fell  back  after  a few  shots. 
A halt  was  called,  and  our  division,  the  old  Pennsylvania 
Reserves,  received  orders  to  unsling  knapsacks,  and  we  knew 
we  had  been  selected  to  make  the  charge  on  the  left.  Moving 
forward  we  were  placed  in  close  column  by  brigades,  in  sup- 
port of  a battery,  and  ordered  to  lie  down.  The  rising  sun 
soon  cleared  away  the  fog  and  revealed  our  line  of  battle  face 
to  face  with  the  enemy  who  were  concealed  in  the  woods 
about  600  yards  distant.  Then  the  dogs  of  war  were  let  loose, 
and  the  several  batteries  along  our  line  began  to  pay  their  re- 
spects to  the  enemy,  who  answered  the  compliment  with 
vigoi.  The  solid  shot  from  the  enemy’s  right  raked  our  lines 


292 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


from  left  to  right,  while  spherical  case,  screeching  through  the 
clear  morning  air  from  the  front,  exploded  over  our  heads. 
Our  regiment,  which  lay  in  the  front  line,  suffered  very  little, 
but  the  regiment  of  new  troops  in  our  rear  lost  severely,  in 
one  instance  a solid  shot  sweeping  seven  men  out  of  a single 
company.  The  position  was  one  of  constant  suspense  to  men 
compelled  to  lie  idle,  waiting  to  see  where  the  next  shot  would 
strike.  Activity,  even  in  much  greater  peril,  would  have  been 
infinitely  preferable.  Through  all  this  trying  ordeal  Pratt 
kept  his  self-possession  and  strove  only  to  do  his  duty,  though 
no  one  but  myself  knew  the  deep  and  silent  agony  he  was 
struggling  to  conceal. 

44  At  last,  to  our  relief,  we  were  ordered  to  fix  bayonets  and 
charge.  Never  did  the  gallant  6th  keep  a straighter  line  on 
a dress  parade  than  it  did  while  charging  across  the  600  yards 
of  open  field  which  lay  between  us  and  the  enemy.  The  rail- 
road which  ran  along  the  skirt  of  the  woods  was  the  point  at 
which  we  were  to  stop,  but  finding  the  position  untenable  by 
reason  of  a battery  which  swept  the  track,  we  entered  the 
woods  and  kept  after  the  enemy,  whose  first  line  was  broken 
and  now  in  full  retreat,  mowing  a track  the  width  of  the  di- 
vision through  the  rebel  lines.  A lull  occurring  in  the  firing, 
Pratt  again  approached  me,  and  leading  the  way  a few  paces 
to  the  rear,  said,  writh  a voice  choking  with  emotion: 

44  4 1 shall  never  leave  these  woods  alive.  I am  going  to 
meet  death  here  this  afternoon.  If  you  get  out  alive,  I want 
you  to  tell  Jennie  I was  prepared  for  death,  and  that  my  last 
thoughts  were  of  duty  to  her,  my  country,  and  my  God.’ 

44  I was  deeply  impressed  with  his  earnestness,  and  begged 
him  to  go  to  the  rear  out  of  danger,  but  of  no  avail.  He  felt 
he  was  going  to  die,  and  he  would  meet  a soldier’s  death  as  a 
soldier  should. 

44  4 Forward,’  came  the  order  along  the  line,  and  with  a 
hasty  4 Good-bye’  and  4 God  bless  you,’  we  sprang  to  our 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


293 


places  to  encounter  the  rapidly  forming  lines  of  our  enemy’s 
fresh  reinforcements. 

“ That  was  the  last  time  I ever  saw  Pratt.  The  straggling 
shots  deepened  into  that  loud,  monotonous  roll,  and  the  stray 
whiz  of  the  minie  ball  changed  into  that  storm  of  leaden  hail 
when  sounds  lose  their  individuality,  denoting  the  desperate 
nature  of  battle.  A sharp  twinge  in  my  shoulder  gave  me  a 
ticket  to  the  rear,  and  I left  the  boys  still  pressing  forward. 
For  five  mortal  hours  the  old  Pennsylvania  Reserves  kept 
their  faces  to  the  foe,  unrelieved  and  unsupported,  while 
thousands  of  fresh  troops  were  lying  in  the  rear  behind 
stacked  arms.  But  it  is  useless  to  dilate  upon  the  errors  and 
jealousies  among  generals,  which  lost  that  battle  to  the  North 
at  the  expense  of  13,000  brave  men,  for  the  results  at  all  points 
of  the  line  were  alike  disastrous.  Night  mercifully  put  an  end 
to  the  slaughter,  and  the  lines  were  reformed  near  where  we 
started  in  the  morning. 

“With  great  anxiety  I sought  out  our  company,  wit! 
several  others  who  had  been  wounded,  to  learn  how  it  had 
fared  with  the  rest  of  the  boys.  Out  of  the  six  who  had  slept 
together  the  night  before,  five  went  into  the  battle,  two  of 
whom  were  killed,  and  two  wounded.  Almost  the  las!  man 
killed  was  poor  Pratt,  struck  in  the  forehead  with  a minie 
ball.  He  never  spoke  afterward,  and  the  boys  being  hard 
pressed,  were  reluctantly  compelled  to  leave  his  bod / where 
he  fell.  His  presentiment  was  no  idle  tale.  His  prediction 
proved  as  true  as  he  felt  it  to  be,  and  was  carried  our  in  all  its 
terrible  reality.  With  the  flickering  gas  in  the  church  at 
Washington  the  light  of  his  life  went  out  in  the  fullness  of  the 
undying  fame  due  to  the  dead  heroes  of  the  war  for  the 
Union.  Among  the  serried  hosts  of  immortal  spirits  which 
are  gathering  in  silent  array  on  the  battlements  of  heaven,  he 
rests  with  the  coveted  crown  inscribed  c Faithful  unto  death.’ 

Immediately  as  the  last  speaker  finished,  George  W.  Scott 


2 94 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


of  the Illinois,  narrated  the  following,  which  brought  so 

vividly  to  the  minds  of  his  listeners  the  desperate  ordeals  of 
the  long  ago  that  more  than  one  present  drew  a long  breath 
and  felt  for  the  moment  a sudden  rush  of  the  old  feeling 
when  death  stared  every  one  in  the  face. 

“ It  was  at  the  battle  of that  we  were  ordered  to 

charge  a line  of  the  enemy’s  works.  We  were  the  third  line 
of  battle.  Just  beyond  a small  stream  lined  with  willows  the 
enemy  were  strongly  entrenched,  and  heavily  supported  by 
artillery.  From  where  we  lay,  the  ground,  which  was  clear 
and  open,  sloped  gently  to  the  stream,  and  the  guns  of  the 
enemy  could  be  distinctly  seen  a few  hundred  yards  on  the 
other  side  of  the  willows. 

“ The  order  was  given,  and  the  boys  ahead  of  us  gallantly 
charged  over  the  open  ground  and  endeavored  to  pass  the  ob- 
structions at  the  creek,  formed  by  stakes  and  interlaced 
willows.  Immediately  a sharp  fire  was  poured  into  them 
from  the  works  beyond. 

“The  first  line  staggered  and  almost  recoiled,  when  they 
were  hurried  on  by  the  second  line  which  came  up  just  behind 
them.  The  fire  from  the  enemy  became  hotter  and  hotter, 
and  men  dropped  on  every  side,  but  the  impetus  of  the  second 
line  carried  them  down  into  the  creek,  where  partial  shelter 
was  afforded  by  the  low  bank. 

“ At  this  juncture  the  order  was  given  to  follow  and  charge 
the  works,  and  we  started  down  the  slope  at  double  quick. 

“ The  musketry  and  guns  poured  an  avalanche  of  death 
among  us,  and  before  we  had  gone  over  half  the  space  the 
ground  was  strewn  with  the  wounded  and  the  dead.  It  was 
a terrible  moment.  The  shells  howled  through  our  ranks, 
and  bursting  overhead  and  upon  the  ground,  filled  the  air 
with  flying  fragments,  which,  with  the  bullets,  made  fearful 
havoc. 

“ In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  we  had  traversed  the 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


295 


open  ground  and  had  reached  the  willows.  We  found  these 
a serious  obstruction,  and,  in  face  of  the  terrible  fire,  they  were 
almost  impassable.  Our  line  was  in  confusion  and  nearly 
demoralized,  and  as  we  were  about  to  fall  back,  the  order  was 
shouted,  to  lie  down,  and  take  shelter  in  the  creek. 

“ As  we  lay  there  with  but  half  of  our  bodies  protected, 
the  enemy  increased  their  efforts  to  dislodge  us  by  sending  a 
veritable  hail  of  missiles. 

“ The  minie  balls  and  buckshot  fell  upon  the  ground  in 
an  incessant  shower.  Cannon  balls  plowed  up  the  ground 
and  begrimed  us  with  earth,  while  above  the  air  quivered 
with  the  uninterrupted  passage  of  lead  and  iron.  From  various 
parts  of  our  line  where  sufficient  shelter  was  afforded,  our  boys 
kept  up  as  rapid  a fire  as  possible,  but  from  where  I lay  the 
bank  was  so  low  that  to  raise  an  arm  or  head  meant  a wound 
or  certain  death.  The  man  who  lay  next  to  me  ventured  to 
look  at  the  enemy’s  works,  when  he  was  struck  by  a shot  that 
completely  severed  his  head  from  his  body. 

u In  our  struggle  to  capture  the  position  our  colors  were 
shot  down  three  times.  The  last  man  who  carried  the  flag 
gained  a position  behind  a tall  stump,  and  three  different  times 
the  stump  was  struck  by  cannon  balls  and  cut  partly  away. 
It  became  too  dangerous  a place,  and  the  brave  fellow  held  up 
the  colors  while  he  lay  flat  upon  the  ground. 

“ This  situation  of  things  remained  the  same  until  night 
came  on,  when  we  were  enabled  to  crawl  down  the  bed  of 
the  creek  under  cover  of  darkness.  Tn  the  morning  a flank 
movement  drove  the  enemy  out  of  their  works,  and  we  occu- 
pied the  position.” 


CAMP-FIRE  XXVIII. 


DINNIS  m’gINLEY  AS  THE  “ SECRETARY  OF  WAR  ” MART 

M’COY  AND  THE  GENERAL — HOW  THE  I5TH  CORPS  CAME 

BY  ITS  BADGE THE  ROMANCE  THAT  A SPENT  BALL 

BROUGHT  ABOUT HOW  WHEELER’S  CAVALRY  GOT  SOME 

CORN  MEAL  SENSATIONS  UPON  SEEING  A COMRADE 

KILLED  BY  A BULLET. 

WT  is  a well-known  fact  that  the  imaginative  faculty  is 
more  active  after  night-fall  than  during  the  day,  and  that 
sp  fire-light  has  the  peculiar  influence  of  stimulating  memory. 
The  association  of  glowing  embers  and  burning  brands  with 
the  unwritten  history  of  “ the  late  unpleasantness”  is  the  cause 
of  these  pages.  The  well-remembered  appearance  of  the 
hastily-made  fire  with  the  old  familiar  camp-kettle  slung  over 
the  blaze,  instantly  recalls  a score  of  events  which  have 
almost  staggered  out  of  sight  down  the  aisle  of  the  past. 

It  seemed  to  be  so  as  the  old-time  soldiers  gathered  about 
the  crackling  sticks  this  evening,  for,  with  every  snap  of 
some  withering  twig  as  it  was  consumed  and  slowly  changed 
into  smoke  and  heat,  some  one  present  recollected  a story.  A 
feeling  of  bonhomie  lent  its  cheer,  and  a spirit  of  jovial  com- 
panionship reigned  in  the  circle. 

An  uproar  of  laughter  in  a group  across  from  the  medita- 
tive scribe  of  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  arrested  the  attention  of  all,  and 
it  was  immediately  decreed  that  the  cause  of  the  hilarity 
should  be  exposed  for  the  edification  of  every  one.  It  was 
discovered  that  Capt.  Fred.  Maxwell,  of  the  3d  N.  Y. 

296 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  297 

Cavalry,  had  “ spun  a yarn,”  and  accordingly  he  was  invited 
to  repeat  it. 

“ Well,  boys,  if  I must,  I must,  I suppose,  and  I will  nar- 
rate one  of  the  funniest  incidents  that  I ever  observed.  The 
long  years  that  separate  to-night  from  the  days  when  we 
followed  the  Stars  and  Stripes  to  ‘ the  front  ’ have  not  dimmed 
its  humor  for  me,  in  the  least.  It  occurred  when  we  were 
near  Poolesville,  Md. 

“At  ‘retreat  roll-call,’  one  day,  Captain  McNamara,  a 
son  of  the  Emerald  Isle,  was  the ‘officer  of  the  day.’  Ac- 
cordingly he  went  to  the  ‘ guard  house  ’ to  inspect  the  guard. 
A member  of  Company  F was  one  of  their  number,  and 
Captain  McNamara  knew  him  almost  as  well  as  he  did  him- 
self. One  by  one  the  boys  were  inspected,  and  the  member 
from  Company  F came  in  turn.  The  captain  found  his 
cartridge  box  minus  ammunition,  and  in  its  stead  numerous 
letters.  There  were  not  forty  rounds  of  powder  and  ball  in 
it,  but  dozens  of  letters.  Instantly  the  captain’s  face  assumed 
the  grim  expression  of  outraged  discipline. 

“‘Shtep  three  paces  in  fhront!’  commanded  the  captain, 
and  the  order  was  obeyed. 

“ The  captain  looked  at  him  in  a curious,  questioning  way, 
and  then  went  to  the  guilty  soldier  and  scrutinized  his 
cartridge  box  with  great  care.  Walking  slowly  around  him, 
he  inspected  every  accoutrement  zealously.  Then,  in  a 
severe  tone,  he  asked: 

“‘An’  phat  moight  be  yer  name?’ 

“ ‘ Dinnis  McGinley,  sur!  ’ 

“ Again  the  captain  went  around  the  man  and  looked  into 
the  misused  cartridge  box,  and  turning  to  its  owner,  he  re- 
peated : 

“‘An’  phat  did  ye  say  was  yer  name?’ 

“ ‘ Dinnis  McGinley,  sur!  ’ 

“Pointing  at  the  letters,  the  captain  ejaculated  upon  the 


Z$8  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

heels  of  the  reply  to  his  question,  with  an  astonishing  look 
of  surprise: 

44 4 By  me  sowl,  oi  thought  ye  was  the  Secretary  of 
War!’” 

As  the  merriment  subsided  somewhat,  Lieut.  S.  M. 
Witt,  of  the  ioth  Indiana,  followed  with  these  remarks: 

44  We  had  a droll  kind  of  a character  in  our  regiment  by 
the  name  of  Mart  McCoy,  who  had  formed  the  habit  of  say- 
ing, on  all  occasions,  both  appropriate  and  inappropriate, 
•Halt!  d — n you,  halt!’ 

44  We  had  just  been  mustered  in  at  Camp  Morton,  In- 
dianapolis, Ind.,  and  were  about  as  green  a set  of  recruits  as 
any  rendezvous  had  the  fortune,  or  misfortune,  to  see  during 
the  war.  Our  captain  had  been  an  old  Mexican  soldier,  and 
we  thought  that  he  was  the  only  one  in  camp  who  knew  any- 
thing about  tactics,  and  it  was  currently  believed  that  we 
were  not  obliged  to  obey  any  officer  but  our  leader,  Captain 
Kice. 

44  We  were  sent  to  Rich  Mountain,  and  soon  were 
marched  to  where  we  had  work  to  perform,  and  were  treated 
to  our  first  experience  under  fire. 

44  We  had  been  ordered  to  lie  down,  and  in  order  to  escape 
the  bullets,  we  had  taken  shelter  behind  the  brow  of  a hill. 

44  While  lying  upon  the  ground,  General  R happened 

to  pass  along  the  line,  and  ordered  firing  to  cease.  Mart 
McCoy  was  lying  upon  his  back  holding  his  gun  in  a per- 
pendicular position,  muzzle  upward,  and  was  inadvertently 
playing  with  the  lock  of  the  weapon.  Just  as  the  general 
was  passing  by,  McCoy’s  piece  was  accidentally  discharged, 
and  so  near  the  general  that  the  report  startled  him. 

44  As  soon  as  the  general  recovered  himself,  he  clutched 
McCoy  by  the  collar,  administered  a forcible  reproof  for  the 
apparent  violation  of  orders,  in  the  way  of  shaking  him  and 
asking,  in  a severe  manner,  if  he  meant  to  obey  the  com- 


CAMP-FIRE  chats  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAk.  299 

mands  of  his  officers.  As  the  shaking  process  was  going  on, 
McCoy  was  ever  and  anon  the  recipient  of  several  not  very 
gentle  applications  of  boot  leather.  Yet,  notwithstanding 
the  rough  handling  he  was  receiving,  McCoy  managed  to 
gasp  out: 

“‘Halt!  d — you,  halt!’ 

« The  general  loosened  his  hold  and  looked  at  McCoy  in 
astonishment.  McCoy,  realizing  that,  for  his  manner  of  ad- 
dressing a superior  officer,  he  was  liable  to  punishment,  im- 
mediately vanished  down  the  hill,  followed  by  the  guffaws  of 
his  comrades.” 

It  will  be  remembered  that  certain  army  corps  were 
designated  by  different  badges,  such  as  stars,  acorns,  etc.,  etc., 
and  Capt.  H.  B.  Reed,  of  the  129th  Illinois,  said  the  way  that 
the  15th  Corps  of  Sherman’s  army  came  by  its  badge  occurred 
in  this  wise: 

“ One  night  some  of  the  boys  had  built  a log  fire,  and 
were  enjoying  its  genial  warmth,  when  they  were  joined 
by  an  Irish  soldier.  He  was  hailed  by: 

“‘Hello!  Where  are  ye  from?  What  corps  do  ye  be- 
long to,  Paddy,  and  what’s  yer  badge?’ 

“ ‘ Me  badge?’ 

“ 4 Yes — what’s  yer  badge?’ 

“ 4 Me  badge,  did  ye  say?’ 

44  4 Yes,  d — you;  what  kind  of  a badge  does  yer  corps 
wear  ?’ 

44  4 Arrah,  ye  insultin’  blackgarruds,  oi  belong  to  the  15th 
Corps,’  and  turning  around  and  showing  his  cartridge  box, 
4 an’  this,  wid  100  rounds,  is  me  badge!’ 

44  The  incident  was  reported  to  headquarters,  and  as  the 
15th  Corps  had  not  received  its  badge,  General  Logan  de- 
clared that  a cartridge  box  with  the  number  4 100’  upon  it 
should  designate  them,  and  the  order  was  carried  into  effect.” 
Among  the  myriad  of  incidents  which  happened  daily 


3°° 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


along  the  lines,  many  of  which  are  stranger  than  the  mar- 
velous events  traced  upon  pages  of  fiction,  one  told  by  Oscar 
F.  Avery,  corporal  in  the  nth  Michigan,  seems  like  a portion 
of  a play  upon  the  stage  wherein  the  finale  is  made  to  come 
out  just  right  for  the  hero. 

Corporal  Avery  said : “ It  was  at  the  battle  of  Stone 

River,  early  in  the  morning,  that  our  regiment  was  lined  up 
at  right  angles  with  the  main  line,  and  while  standing  in  this 
position  a comrade  at  my  side,  by  the  name  of  Robert 
Thomas,  was  struck  just  above  the  eye  by  a spent  ball.  He 
sank  to  the  ground,  and  several  of  us  placed  him  in  as  com- 
fortable a position  as  possible,  and  were  ministering  to  him  the 
best  we  could  under  the  circumstances,  when  we  were 
ordered  to  form  a part  of  the  main  line.  This  took  us  away 
from  the  prostrate  form  of  Thomas,  who  lay  beside  a tree, 
apparently  breathing  his  last  breath. 

“ After  the  second  day’s  battle  I was  detailed  to  look  after 
our  wounded.  I searched  for  my  comrade,  Thomas,  but 
could  find  no  trace  of  him.  We  supposed  that  he  had  died, 
and  been  buried  by  the  rebels. 

“ Nearly  a year  afterward,  in  1863,  while  we  were  march- 
ing across  to  Bridgeport,  with  our  line  of  battle  extending 
a distance  of  thirty-two  miles,  who  should  rush  out  of  the 
bushes  and  into  the  arms  of  the  boys  of  his  own  company, 
but  Robert  Thomas! 

u He  told  us  his  history  from  the  day  of  the  battle  of 
Stone  River,  and  we  learned  that  he  was  taken  prisoner 
while  lying  under  the  tree  where  we  had  left  him.  He  laid 
in  a hospital  for  nine  months,  and  after  recovering  suffi- 
ciently so  as  to  be  able  to  move  about,  he  took  an  opportunity 
to  board  a train  with  one  of  two  regiments  who  were  being 
transferred,  and  by  saying  that  he  belonged  to  the  regiment 
just  ahead,  he  arrived  at  the  front,  and,  taking  French  leave 
of  his  train,  he  slipped  through  the  pickets,  stumbled  upon 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


301 


us,  and  fell  in  with  his  old  company,  after  being  gone  almost 
a year,  and  not  naving  seen  during  that  time  a Union 
soldier,  nor  the  Stars  and  Stripes.” 

Captain  Reed  asked  if  we  had  heard  how  he  ground  corn 
all  night  for  some  of  Wheeler’s  rebel  cavalry. 

We  responded  in  the  negative,  and  when  about  to  insist 
upon  having  the  particulars  of  the  incident  related,  a member 
of  the  captain’s  company,  who  helped  do  the  grinding,  said: 

“ Captain,  tell  the  boys  about  our  grinding  that  corn  for 
Wheeler’s  cavalry!  ” 

“ Well,”  said  the  captain,  “ I was  in  command  of  a 
foraging  party  during  our  4 March  to  the  Sea,’  and  one  after- 
noon it  happened  that  we  came  across  an  old  corn  mill.  We 
concluded  to  gather  some  corn  from  the  surrounding  barns 
and  grind  it.  We  collected  a large  quantity,  and  in  a little 
while  had  the  old  mill  doing  its  best.  Having  no  sacks,  we 
took  dresses  and  skirts  that  we  found  in  a deserted  dwelling, 
and  by  tying  up  the  ends  of  them,  soon  had  a goodly  num- 
ber of  serviceable  sacks. 

“ We  kept  the  old  mill  going  till  toward  morning,  and 
had  about  finished  our  job.  We  had  slung  some  of  our  im- 
provised sacks  across  the  backs  of  our  mules,  and  were 
engaged  in  filling  others  and  preparing  for  departure,  when 
our  pickets  rushed  in  and  reported  rebel  cavalry  coming 
down  the  road. 

“ We  rushed  to  our  guns,  but  before  we  could  use  them,  a 
volley  from  the  enemy’s  carbines  rattled  through  the  mill, 
and  a chorus  of  yells  stampeded  our  mules. 

“ In  less  time  than  it  can  be  told,  our  little  party  had  scat- 
tered, and  our  mules  were  flying  in  all  directions.  Some  of 
them  strewed  meal  over  the  fields  for  miles,  and  the  wajr 
feminine  apparel  was  distributed  was  ludicrous  to  behold. 

“ The  early  morning  air  was  filled  with  meal,  shots, 
curses,  brays,  flying  petticoats  and  yells.  Confusion  reigned 
supreme,  and  bedlam  was  outrivaled. 


3°2 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


46  It  is  needless  to  say  that  we  made  ourselves  scarce,  and 
with  the  exception  of  two  or  three  who  were  captured,  we 
gained  our  camp  in  safety.  We  had  lost  our  corn  meal,  but 
we  thought  ourselves  lucky  to  have  escaped  being  taken 
prisoners  and  sent  to  Andersonville.” 

Probably  thousands  of  readers  will  remember  their  feelings 
upon  seeing,  for  the  first  time,  a comrade  struck  lifeless. 
Such  sensations  are  always  remembered,  and  the  impressions 
then  received  are  invariably  carried  to  the  grave.  Powerful 
as  such  events  were  in  causing  emotion,  their  rapid  and 
familiar  occurrence  dulled  their  horror,  and  lessened  their 
repulsiveness.  The  dread  and  sickening  loathing  created  by 
many  a corpse  on  a battlefield,  is  by  familiarity  and  constant 
view  transformed  into  a stoical  indifference.  Were  this  not  so, 
the  awful  carnage  of  some  battles  would  have  made  deserters 
of  thousands  of  soldiers. 

Sergt.  J.  H.  Goff,  of  the  129th  Illinois,  told  the  effect 
of  seeing  a soldier  shot  dead,  and  said: 

44  It  was  at  the  battle  of  Resaca,  Ga.,  that  I beheld,  for 
the  first  time,  the  death  of  a soldier  by  a gun-shot.  He  was 
standing  about  twenty  feet  in  front  of  me  in  the  next  line  of 
battle,  and  just  as  I happened  to  glance  at  him  he  was  struck 
in  the  neck  by  a musket  ball.  He  let  fall  his  gun  and 
dropped,  turning  toward  me  as  he  fell,  and  as  he  did  so,  by  a 
convulsive  movement  of  the  muscles  of  his  throat  his  tongue 
was  forced  out  of  his  mouth  to  its  utmost  extent. 

44  A sickening  shudder  involuntarily  passed  over  me  at  the 
fearful  sight.  A feeling  of  great  sympathy  and  pity  welled 
up  in  my  heart  for  the  poor  fellow,  and  I longed  to  go  to  him 
and  take  him  in  my  arms,  minister  to  his  wants,  and  seek  to 
ease  his  pain.  My  attention  was  then  attracted  to  the  enemy 
by  their  rapid  fire  and  by  the  humming  of  their  bullets  above 
us,  and  as  I realized  that  it  was  by  one  of  their  bullets  that 
the  poor  boy  in  front  of  me  had  met  his  death,  a savage  desire 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


3°3 


for  revenge  and  retaliation  drowned  out  the  finer  emotions 
which  had  just  filled  my  breast,  and  I was  eager  to  put  my 
desire  into  execution.  I clutched  my  gun  with  firm  fingers, 
and  with  every  muscle  steady,  and  every  nerve  calm,  my 
whole  mind  was  concentrated  in  my  determination  to  avenge 
the  death  of  the  man  who  lay  upon  the  ground  cold  in  death. 
In  a few  minutes  I found  myself  loading  and  firing  as  rapidly 
as  possible,  and  during  the  subsequent  movements  of  the 
regiment  I forgot,  for  the  time,  the  death  of  the  soldier.” 

The  recital  of  Sergeant  Goff  caused  the  faces  of  all  to 
assume  lines  of  gravity  and  sadness,  and  it  was  plainly  ap- 
parent that  this  incident  had  awakened  in  the  minds  of  each 
memory  of  war’s  most  horrible  phases,  and  an  oppressive 
silence  pervaded  the  camp. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  usual  flow  of  good-natured 
spirits  resumed  its  course,  and  after  several  more  stories  the 
motion  to  adjourn  was  decided  to  be  in  order,  and  ere  long 
the  camp-fire  was  a smoldering  heap  of  ashes. 


CAMP-FIRE  XXIX. 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  GUERILLA 

CHIEFTAIN,  JOHN  MORGAN AUDACIOUS  AUDACITY — 

THE  LAST  PLANK  OF  THE  SHIP  OF  STATE. 

G.  BIRCHFIELD,  of  the  13th  Tennessee  cavalry,  said: 
“ There  have  been  several  letters  published  claiming 
® to  describe  Morgan’s  death,  but  I have  never  yet  seen 
one  which  came  anywhere  near  the  truth  of  the  affair.  I was 
one  of  those  who,  when  the  shadow  of  war  darkened  the  en- 
tire land,  lived  in  the  Sunny  South;  but  having  been  raised  by 
one  of  those  truly  loyal  men,  one  who  loved  his  whole  coun- 
try, and  whose  father  had  fought  at  King’s  Mountain,  and, 
moreover,  being  in  that  truly  patriotic  section  of  Southeast 
Tennessee,  whose  loyal  sons  fought  on  every  battle-field,  I 
could  not  be  otherwise  than  true  to  my  country  in  that  sad 
hour.  So  I have  had  my  share  of  the  hardships  and  fun,  and 
the  incident  to  which  I refer  was  one  of  the  perilous  ones. 

“ It  was  in  Greenville,  Penn.,  Sept.  4,  1864.  We  had 
been  encamped  at  Bull’s  Gap,  sixteen  or  eighteen  miles  west 
of  there,  for  four  or  five  days,  and  about  midnight  on  the 
third  we  were  aroused  and  ordered  to  saddle  up.  It  was  pitch 
dark,  and  the  lightning  played  around  the  clouds  as  we 
marched  out  east  of  the  gap  and  across  the  country  southeast, 
until  we  struck  the  old  Newport  road.  Then  we  turned  east 
toward  Greenville,  when  the  rain  began  to  fall  in  torrents. 
When  within  two  miles  of  Greenville,  just  before  daybreak, 
we  learned  that  the  Confederate  pickets  were  posted  in  an  old 
house  one  mile  ahead. 


m 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


305 


« Colonel  Ingerton  ordered  two  companies  to  the  right 
through  the  woods  and  fields.  They  got  between  the  re- 
serve pickets  and  town,  and  the  rest  of  the  regiments  closed 
in  on  them.  We  took  them  without  a shot,  and  then 
marched  to  within  about  three-fourths  of  a mile  of  Greenville, 
when  Colonel  Ingerton  ordered  Company  G to  take  the  road 
toward  town.  Captain  Wilcox  commanded  the  company. 
The  rest  of  the  regiment  were  formed  in  line  across  Blue 
Spring  road,  facing  the  west. 

“ Captain  Wilcox  marched  up  the  top  of  a hill  to  the 
west  of  town,  and  into  the  main  street,  and  halted;  then  rode 
forward  to  where  he  could  see  from  end  to  end  of  the  main 
street,  and  it  seemed  to  me,  in  the  gray  of  the  morning,  that 
the  street  was  alive  with  men.  The  Johnnies  getting  in  late 
the  night  before,  had  camped  in  the  street,  and  on  the  rising 
ground  to  the  east.  Captain  Wilcox  ordered  the  company 
to  ‘Forward  march!  Trot!  Charge!'  and  in  an  instant  we 
were  among  the  Johnnies,  some  of  whom  were  still  wrapped 
in  the  embrace  of  Morpheus  on  the  sidewalk.  When  they 
were  roused  by  the  yells  and  firing,  they  left  hats,  guns, 
blankets,  horses  and  all,  and  jumped  over  fences,  darted 
through  doorways,  and  into  stores,  and  around  buildings;  and 
in  fact,  there  was  general  confusion,  forty-four  boys  in  blue 
being  mixed  up  with  one  or  two  thousand  Johnnies  who 
were  running  in  every  direction.  We  did  not  even  stop  to 
take  prisoners  of  those  who  would  throw  up  their  hands,  but 
dashed  through  the  main  street  to  within  one  or  two  hundred 
yards  of  their  battery,  which  we  could  see  was  making  ready 
to  give  us  a welcome.  Lieut.  John  M.  Wilcox,  John  Turner 
and  Sol.  Turner,  John  Humphrey  and  eight  or  ten  others 
made  a dash  for  the  battery,  which  fired  one  shot.  This  from 
bad  range  or  some  other  cause,  struck  a church;  but  the  boys 
went  for  those  guns  and  drove  the  rebels  away,  and  captured 
them;  but  since  they  could  not  remove  them,  they  left  ^he 


$o£>  camp-fire  chats  of  the  civil  war. 

guns  and  joined  the  company  in  town,  where  we  were  em- 
ployed in  picking  up  Johnnies. 

“ I rode  up  to  the  hotel,  where  I was  acquainted  with  Mrs. 
Col.  David  Fry,  the  noted  bridge-burner  and  Union  scout. 
She  was  standing  on  the  porch.  I said,  4 Good-morning,  Aunt 
Catherine.’  She  was  very  much  excited  and  replied,  4 Gen- 
eral Morgan  is  in  that  brick  house  at  the  rear,  and  you  must 
take  him.’  I galloped  to  where  Captain  Wilcox  was  stand- 
ing near  the  church  east  of  the  hotel,  and  told  him  of  the 
vicinity  of  General  Morgan.  There  were  fifteen  or  twenty 
men  with  Wilcox.  He  ordered  them  to  surround  the  block, 
which  they  did.  In  a very  short  time  Andrew  Campbell 
went  to  the  west  side  of  the  block,  near  a stable  that  stood 
north  of  the  hotel  that  Mrs.  Fry  occupied.  Captain  Wilcox 
ordered  John  M.  Wilcox  and  myself  to  go  into  the  grounds 
in  the  rear,  and  east  of  the  old  church  on  Main  street,  passing 
north  toward  the  brick  house  that  Mrs.  Fry  designated  to  us. 
When  we  had  gone  about  half-way,  we  passed  by  an  out- 
house, which  stood  on  the  southeast  corner  of  the  lot  on 
which  the  house  of  Mrs.  Williams  was  situated.  John  H. 
Morgan  had  made  his  quarters  there  the  night  before.  As 
we  passed  this,  two  officers,  Johnson  and  Clay,  I think,  were 
their  names,  came  to  the  door,  threw  up  their  hands,  and  said 
they  would  surrender;  b&t  just  then  we  saw  a man  start 
from  behind  the  building  in  his  shirt  sleeves  and  bareheaded, 
and  run  toward  the  brick  house  on  the  north  side  of  the 
block ; so  we  did  not  stop  to  take  the  two,  but  hurried  up  to 
catch  the  other  fellow,  as  we  saw  that  some  of  our  boys  were 
j ust  behind  us. 

“We  passed  by  the  side  of  a grape  arbor  twenty-five  or 
\ hirty  feet,  and  through  it  to  the  east  side,  where  we  could 
still  see  Morgan  pushing  toward  the  house.  We  got  between 
him  and  the  house,  and  ordered  him  to  surrender,  which  he 
refused  to  do,  and  fired.  The  ball  passed  very  near  Lieuten- 


ADMIRAL  LUCE, 


GEN.  F.  SIGEL, 


GEN.  W.  Q.  GRESHAM. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL.  WAR. 


3°7 


ant  Wilcox  and  myself.  We  were  about  twenty  or  thirty 
feet  from  where  he  stood.  He  then  turned  and  passed 
through  a bunch  of  grapevines,  and  snapped  his  revolvers  at 
us  again. 

“Just  at  this  time  I saw  Andrew  Campbell  ride  out  from 
behind  the  stable  aq^l  fire.  Lieutenant  Wilcox  and  myself 
both  yelled  at  Campbell  not  to  shoot,  for  Morgan  was  right 
in  line  between  us  and  Campbell.  Morgan  turned  and  went 
five  or  six  paces  toward  Campbell,  when  Campbell  dis- 
mounted, and  was  taking  deliberate  aim,  when  Morgan 
wheeled  and  faced  Wilcox  and  myself  with  his  pistol  raised. 
Campbell  fired  his  second  shot,  which  took  effect  just  below 
the  left  shoulder-blade,  and  passed  through  his  body,  and  out 
below  his  left  nipple.  Morgan  threw  up  his  hand  and  ex- 
claimed, c Oh  God!’  and  fell  dead  without  a groan.  We  then 
placed  his  body  on  Campbell’s  horse,  and  he  carried  it  about 
one  mile  west  of  Greenville,  where  we  met  General  Gillam. 
Campbell  said,  ‘General,  here  is  the  old  Kentucky  horse- 
thief,  I guess  he  won’t  get  away  this  time.’  ” 

A witness  of  the  following  audacity  then  told  this: 

“About  the  boldest  thing  I ever  saw  done  was  an  achieve- 
ment by  Dan  Ellis,  a famous  pilot  and  scout,  who  before  the 
close  of  the  war  succeeded  in  piloting  over  12,000  men  in 
squads  of  from  one  to  three  hundred  in  one  direction  or  an- 
other, through  the  mountains  of  East  Tennessee.  He  had 
been  trained  in  the  vocation  from  his  boyhood,  learning  his 
wit  by  hard  knocks  and  from  the  rough  teachings  of  experi- 
ence rather  than  from  book  lamin’,  yet  a little,  or  even  a 
great  deal  of  the  said  ; lamin’  ’ would  not  have  injured  him 
materially,  since  he  could  neither  read  nor  write,  though  he 
was  as  eloquent  and  as  fluent  a talker  as  could  have  been 
found  in  that  part  of  the  country.  His  reputation  as  a suc- 
cessful guide  was  well-known  throughout  the  whole  State, 
and  when  the  Johnnies  heard  that  Dan  was  leading  a column, 


3°* 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


extra  effort  was  made  to  head  him  off,  though,  in  the  nature 
of  things,  they  rarely  heard  of  him,  for,  figuratively,  he 
stepped  lightly  and  filled  up  his  tracks. 

“But  even  with  him  everything  did  not  always  slip 
smoothly.  He  was  captured  at  least  once  to  my  certain 
knowledge.  It  was  in  October,  1861,  just  after  the  burning 
of  the  Union  bridge,  near  Holstein.  The  operations  in  that 
vicinity  for  a few  days  previous  attracted  some  attention  from 
the  Johnnies,  and  before  we  knew  it,  the  Confederate  Col- 
onel Leadbetter,  with  one  thousand  infantry,  escorted  by  a 
battalion  of  two  hundred  cavalry,  were  down  upon  forty  of 
us  with  Dan  Ellis  at  the  head.  They  caught  us  in  a tight 
place,  almost  unawares,  and  we  simply  and  quietly  surrend 
ered.  It  was  a part  of  Dan’s  policy,  he  said,  to  surrendei 
like  a fellow  confessing  his  guilt  on  the  gallows,  when  wc 
were  caught  in  a trap,  since  that  would  tend  to  make  thfc 
enemy  more  merciful  toward  us,  and  continued  gentle  sub- 
mission would  throw  them  off  their  guard.  So  we  went  on 
with  our  captors  almost  as  well  as  if  we  had  been  a part  of 
them,  until  we  arrived  at  Taylor’s  Ford. 

“ Leadbetter  turned  us  over  to  Major  McClelland  to  take 
to  Elizabethton  and  put  into  jail  until  further  orders;  but 
when  we  arrived  at  the  Ford,  Dan  concluded  that  he  had  gone 
far  enough  with  his  Confederate  escort,  so  he  at  once  began 
to  carry  out  a plan  for  escape  which  he  had  by  that  time  ma- 
tured in  his  own  mind.  Riding  up  to  a house  near  thti  road, 
his  guard  following  close  by  his  side,  he  leaned  over  the 
picket  fence  and  called  out  for  a cup  of  water.  The  lady 
within  was  not  long  in  coming  to  the  fence  with  ;J,  and  then 
the  fun  commenced. 

“ The  woman  held  up  the  cup  of  water  to  him,  and  Dan 
held  out  his  hand  to  receive  it,  at  the  same  time  calling  out 
loudly  to  the  guard  who  was  with  him,  as  though  he  were 
startled: 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


309 


Look!  look!  See  that  Yank  and  Johnnie  back  there,’ 
pointing  to  the  rear. 

Where?  ’ asked  the  guard. 

« c Way  back — half  a mile,’  continued  Dan. 

“ The  guard  looked  long  and  steady,  but  saw  nothing. 
Meantime,  instead  of  taking  the  cup  of  water  from  the  lady, 
Dan  placed  his  hand  on  the  fence,  leaped  over,  and  was  sev- 
eral rods  across  the  field  before  the  guard  discovered  him. 
The  guard  was  so  fully  absorbed  in  looking  for  the  Johnny 
and  Yank  to  whom  Dan  had  so  kindly  called  his  attention, 
that  he  did  not  hear  Dan  say: 

“ c Drat  my  buttons,  if  that  wa’n’t  a pretty  narrer  jump, 
an’  it  hurt  my  hand,’  as  he  jumped  the  fence;  and,  indeed,  the 
first  thing  that  called  the  guard’s  attention  to  the  fact  that 
Dan  was  leaving  the  country,  was  the  shooting  from  the 
other  guards,  which  soon  numbered  a hundred  or  more  shots. 
But  the  bullets  were  too  slow,  and  Dan  was  soon  out  of  their 
range.  He  was  at  this  time  on  the  crest  of  a low  hill,  and 
turned  and  saluted  the  Johnnies,  who  fired  another  volley  at 
him,  which  closed  the  adventure.  It  was  of  no  use  to  pursue 
since  he  had  the  advantage  on  any  footman  of  at  least  sixty 
rods,  and  the  fences  and  hedges  were  such  that  a horse  could 
not  be  used,  so  that  Dan  Ellis  escaped  after  all. 

“In  this  connection,  with  almost  these  same  circumstances, 
there  occurred  another  incident  which  shows  what  mother 
wit  can  do  for  a fellow  sometimes,  and  which  I will  relate 
with  the  permission  of  the  camp-fire.” 

“We  will  refer  that  to  the  S.  P.  U.  H.,”  said  the  com- 
mander. It  was  accordingly  referred,  and  the  society  replied 
that  they  had  always  disliked  the  principle  of  usurpation  in 
history,  but  asked  that  the  comrade  be  allowed  to  tell  his  story 
on  this  occasion,  so  he  continued: 

“Just  previous  to  the  capture  of  Ellis  and  the  rest  of  us, 
while  we  were  preparing  ourselves  for  business  at  the  front. 


3IQ 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


an  incident  occurred,  the  sequel  to  which  was  unique. 
Elizabethton,  Tennessee,  if  I remember  correctly,  was  the 
home  of  Congressman  N.  G.  Taylor.  At  any  rate,  he  made 
a ringing  speech  there  while  an  enrolling  officer  for  the 
Union  army  at  that  place,  and  grew  eloquent  in  the  cause 
which  had  sent  him  to  Congress  twice.  He  said  that  the 
Union  was  still  strong,  but  needed  to  be  still  stronger;  that 
the  flag  still  waved  over  hearts  that  would  remain  loyal  to  the 
end;  that  all  who  considered  themselves  men  would  remain 
under  the  folds  of  the  national  ensign,  and  permit  no  strange 
banner  to  appear  in  our  skies;  that  he,  for  one,  would  hang 
to  the  ship  of  state  until  the  last  plank,  sundered  from  the 
others,  would  float  out  upon  the  ocean  of  anarchy,  and  then 
he  would  still  be  on  that  plank  ! 

“ This  brought  the  cheers  from  the  audience,  and  the  en- 
rolling proceeded  rapidly,  so  that  it  was  only  about  two  weeks 
after,  when  a company  of  a hundred  or  more  of  us  encamped 
at  Doe  River  Cove. 

“ We  had  been  there  about  a week,  and  some  of  the  boys 
began  to  be  impatient  because  there  was  no  fighting  or  any- 
thing else  to  do.  Soldiering  seemed  to  be  rather  dry  business, 
and  gradually  homesickness,  thus  early,  and  even  a desire  to 
repudiate  their  oaths,  began  to  possess  the  boys. 

“ Taylor  staid  among  them,  and  all  the  while  cheered 
and  exhorted  them  to  remain  loyal.  But  finally  the  climax 
was  reached.  It  now  appeared  that  the  practical  part  of  war 
had  never  dawned  upon  the  minds  of  the  boys,  and  when  it 
was  rumored  through  the  camp  that  the  long-looked-for 
enemy  were  actually  coming,  and  that  there  would  in  all 
probability  be  a battle,  there  was  a general  dropping  of 
countenances.  Captain  Gourley,  with  a small  force,  was  sent 
out  to  reconnoiter,  and  before  long  he  sent  back  a messenger, 
who  announced  that  the  advance  of  Colonel  Leadbetter’s  Con- 
federate brigade  had  been  met  and  vanquished  with  due  prompt- 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


311 


ness;  the  messenger  also  bringing  a request  for  moie  men 
to  assist  Captain  Gourley.  The  whole  camp  was  accord  - 
ingly  ordered  into  line  of  battle  at  once.  Every  volunteer 
toed  the  mark,  but  just  as  they  did  so,  a screech  was  heard  off 
to  the  left,  and  soon  there  came  through  the  bushes  a man  on 
horseback,  with  his  face  bloody,  swinging  a sword  in  one 
hand  and  a butcher’s  knife  in  the  other,  crying  at  the  top  of 
his  voice: 

444  Run,  (hie)  boys!  Run!  They’re  cornin’!’  the  crier 
oeing  one  of  those  mis- made  men  whose  idea  of  chivalry 
or  knighthood,  and  especially  modern  soldiery,  was  that  the 
first  act  is  to  get  4 gloriously  drunk.’  * The  first  act  having 
been  completed,  it  did  not  take  long  for  the  drunken  man  to 
imagine  that  the  whole  Confederate  army  was  upon  him , 
and,  having  fallen  from  his  horse  several  times,  the  knocks 
and  bruises  therefrom  bled  freely,  and  soon  gave  him  the  ap- 
pearance of  having  been  just  where  he  reported  himself  to 
have  been.  The  young  soldiers  who  beheld  him  in  this  condi- 
tion were  at  that  time  just  in  the  proper  state  of  mind  to 
take  fright  at  anything  like  war,  so  that  they  did  not  need  a 
second  warning  for  each  to  betake  himself  to  some  hiding- 
place  near.  Within  five  minutes  from  the  first  warning 
sounded  by  the  drunken  soldier  (?),  the  original  line  of  battk 
could  not  be  distinguished  from  a light  gust  of  wind,  so 
shadowy  and  absent  were  the  previously  brave  soldiers. 

“No  one  could  be  seen  except  Congressman  Taylor  and 
Captain  Boyd.  They  saw  the  last  of  their  following  secrete 
himself,  and  then  saw  the  drunken  man  fall  from  the  horse 
with  that  certain  thud  which  gave  strong  evidence  that  he 
would  lie  there  some  time  before  regaining  his  consciousness* 
Then  Congressman  Taylor  said  to  Captain  Boyd: 

44 4 Well,  captain,  there  may  be  something  in  it,  after  all,1 
referring  to  the  sudden  disappearance  of  the  soldiers  from 
the  supposed  enemy.  4 We  had  better  be  on  the  safe  side,  at 


312 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


any  rate,  and  I think  the  safe  side  is  the  side  of  this  embank- 
ment right  here.’  So  saying,  the  congressman  and  the  cap- 
tain stepped  down  the  bank,  and  when  they  were  well 
hid,  Congressman  Taylor  sadly  reflected  aloud: 

u 4 Ah,  captain,  the  last  plank  of  the  ship  of  state  is  now 
out  upon  the  anarchical  billows  of  rebellion,  but  I am  still 
on  it.’ 

“ Sure  enough,  before  many  hours,  the  Confederates  un- 
der Colonel  Leadbetter  came,  and  they  picked  up  most  of 
those  who  had  formed  the  line  of  battle  earlier,  the  Confed- 
erates having  captured  the  reconnoitering  party  under  Captain 
Gourley,  who  could  not  stay  their  advance  under  such  great 
odds. 

“ After  hunting  out  the  line  of  battle  from  the  various 
nooks  and  corners,  and  capturing  its  members,  the  Johnnies 
finally  found  Congressman  Taylor  and  Captain  Boyd,  who 
surrendered  without  much  hesitation.  All  the  captives  were 
taken  to  Elizabethton  and  jailed.  The  last  plank  of  the 
ship  of  state  now  appeared  to  be  getting  the  worst  of  it — to 
be  sinking,  and  dragging  the  congressman  down  with  it.  He 
was  in  a sorry  fit.  The  enemy  would  have  no  mercy  for 
him  who  had  incited  so  many  to  take  up  arms  against  them 
only  a short  month  before.  He  sought  the  advice  of  his 
brother-in-law.  I believe  it  was  he  who  told  him  that  the  best 
thing  he  could  now  do  would  be  to  confess  his  guilt,  and  make 
a speech  in  behalf  of  the  Confederacy.  This  he  concluded 
to  do,  and  when  he  was  brought  up  to  take  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  the  Confederacy,  he  seized  the  opportunity  and 
made  a rousing  speech,  closing  with  the  following  ambigu- 
ous words: 

MC  Yes,  dear  friends,  the  ship  of  state  has  gone  to  pieces, 
and  the  last  plank  has  floated  out  into  the  Confederacy,  and 
I here  solemnly  declare  that  I am  upon  that  plank.’  The  as- 
sertion received  applause,  and  was  accepted  as  an  oath  of 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


3*3 


allegiance,  but  the  congressman  still  stuck  to  the  plank,  soon 
slipping  away  from  the  Confederate  ranks,  and  the  plank  in 
turn  still  staid  under  him,  for  after  the  war  he  was  elected 
to  * third  term  as  a reward  of  merit.” 


CAVALRY  CHARG 


CAMP-FIRE  XXX. 


A MULE  DRIVER’S  PECULIARITIES FORAGERS MAJOR 

COLLINS’  NEGRO  BOY,  FRACTION THE  SAD  STORY  OF 

AN  UNKNOWN  MICHIGAN  SOLDIER. 

y®tOMRADES,  listen,  while  I tell  you  about  a mule- 
flg  driver  of  the  Twenty-sixth  Illinois,”  spoke  up  one  of 
^grl  the  boys. 

“ Frequently  private  soldiers  became  widely  known  in  the 
army  for  some  peculiar  characteristic,  but  perhaps  few  were 
more  so  than  the  one  I am  about  to  describe.  He  was  about 
six  and  a half  feet  high,  long,  lank  and  angular,  with  an  un- 
gainly, swaggering  kind  of  gait,  though  when  astride  a mule 
he  was  at  home.  He  was  generally  known  as  c Stackpole,’  the 
mule  driver  of  the  26th  Illinois.  He  always  had  a good  team, 
and  if  he  lost  a mule  he  could  soon  pick  up  another,  since  he 
did  not  concern  himself  as  to  where  the  mules  belonged,  if  he 
wanted  them.  In  the  fall  of  1864  to°k  a span  from  Gen- 
eral Schofield’s  headquarters  team,  and  shaved,  cropped  and 
painted  them,  till  the  driver  passed  them  on  the  road  a few 
hours  afterward,  hunting  his  stolen  mules,  but  never  dream- 
ing they  were  before  him. 

“ This  same  driver  had  an  undying  thirst  for  good  com- 
missary whiskey,  and  when  the  roads  were  in  the  most  fear- 
ful condition,  and  teams  balked  and  floundered  in  the  mud 
till  it  almost  seemed  nothing  would  ever  again  induce  the 
mules  to  pull  a pound,  if  only  the  quartermaster  would  send 
for  ‘ Stackpole  5 and  promise  him  a pint  of  good  whiskey, 
the  balkiest  team  would  soon  be  pulling  for  dear  life.  He 

3*5 


3l6 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


would  vault  into  the  saddle,  straighten  up  the  leaders,  touch 
up  every  mule  in  the  team,  and  when  all  were  alert  and 
ready,  it  really  seemed  he  could  make  his  whip  play  round 
like  a streak  of  lightning,  hitting  all  at  once;  then  he  would 
halloo  till  you  could  hear  him  for  miles,  not  omitting  of 
course  the  traditionary  4 cuss  words,’  and  things  would  go, 
however  deep  the  mud  might  be. 

44  Starting  loads  recalls  the  ‘March  to  the  Sea’  with  Sher- 
man, and  through  the  Carolinas  in  the  winter  of  1865,  which 
developed  many  expert  foragers,  and  the  enormous  loads  that 
some  soldiers  could  carry  into  camp  would  astonish  people  in 
civil  life.  But  the  improvised  carts  and  conveyances  would 
also  make  them  open  their  eyes.  It  was  a common  thing  to 
see  mules  and  horses  led  in  loaded  down  with  provender, 
but  to  see  a nice  family  carriage  driven  in,  with  the  elegantly 
cushioned  and  costly  upholstered  seats  piled  full  of  bacon  or 
pickled  side  meat,  was  not  at  all  unusual. 

44At  Lynch’s  Creek  in  South  Carolina,  owing  to  high 
water,  crossing  was  delayed  several  days,  and  the  sparsely 
settled  country  was  soon  stripped  of  almost  everything  eat- 
able, until  finally  nothing  remained  to  live  upon  but  a scant 
supply  of  ear  corn,  which  was  rendered  palatable  by  being 
parched.  Officers  had  to  watch  their  horses  while  they  were 
eating,  to  prevent  the  famishing  men  from  stealing  all  their 
corn.  After  crossing,  the  foragers  struck  out  to  collect  food, 
and  when  they  returned  about  2 o’clock  in  the  morning, 
the  men  got  up,  cooked,  ate,  and  sat  round  the  camp-fires, 
singing  and  making  merry,  apparently  as  happy  and  con- 
tented as  if  in  the  midst  of  plenty.” 

James  Houghton,  of  Plymouth,  Indiana,  a member  of 
the  29th  Indiana,  then  took  the  floor. 

44 At  Stone  River,  on  the  afternoon  of  December  30,  1862, 
the  regiment  was  ordered  to  move  up  and  take  a position  for 
the  fight  on  the  morrow. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  3 1 7 

44  Major  Collins,  of  that  regiment,  had  a negro  servant 
whom  the  boys,  for  some  unaccountable  reason,  had  nick- 
named 4 Fraction.’  While  being  placed  in  position,  Fraction 
espied  a mulatto  boy  passing  to  the  rear  with  an  old  fash- 
ioned ‘horse  pistol  ’ in  his  possession.  A sudden  idea  seemed 
to  strike  the  servant,  and  he  yelled,  4 Wha’  yer  gwine  wid 
dat  shootin’  iron?’  The  boy  answered,  4 Gwine  to  de  reah, 
to  take  car’  the  4 Cunnel’s  hoss.’  4 Fraction  ’ then  said,  4 Jess 
han’  dat  shootin’  iron  ober  to  me,’  and  the  boy,  like  a true 
soldier,  quickly  obeyed  the  order  of  his  4 superior ’(  ?).  ‘Frac- 
tion’  then  followed  along  till  the  regiment  was  placed  in 
position,  borrowing  ammunition  from  several  of  the  soldiers. 
When  the  fight  commenced  the  following  morning,  he  disap- 
peared very  suddenly,  and  not  turning  up  at  nightfall,  nor 
the  next  day,  the  regiment  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had 
been  killed  or  taken  prisoner. 

44  On  the  third  day,  while  a bevy  of  regimental  and  com- 
pany officers  were  seated  under  a tree,  cracking  and  eating 
nuts  that  had  been  shaken  off  during  the  previous  day’s  en- 
gagement, one  of  the  officers  descried  ‘Fraction’  coming 
toward  them.  He  was  immediately  assailed  by  a volley  of 
questions  as  to  his  late  whereabouts,  and  after  much  taunt- 
ing and  more  coaxing,  seated  himself,  and  assuming  a very 
important  manner,  gave  the  following  account  with  the 
utmost  gravity: 

44  4 Well,  gemmen,  when  dat  fightin’  commenced,  and  de 
boys  ’gan  to  drap  like  dey  was  hurt,  an’  de  rebs  ’gin  run- 
nin  tow’d  us  purty  fas’,  I jess  ’eluded  dat  I could  run  faster 
dan  dem.  I jess  got  dat  hoss  pistol  all  ready,  and  away 
1 went.  Purty  soon  I he’rd  somebody  ridin’  arter  me,  and 
when  I looked  ’roun’,  I tell  you  dat  my  legs  trimbled,  for  I 
seed  one  ob  dem  rebel  hoss  offica’hs  cornin’  like  de  berry  debil. 
I didn’t  stop  to  take  aim,  but  jess  histed  dat  gun  over  my  left 
shouldah,  and  pinted  it  in  the  d’rection  of  dat  man,  and  pulled 


3 1 S CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

de’  triggah,  an’  I’ll  bet  a possum’  dat  I killed  dat  fellah,  but 
I didn’t  stop,  no  sah!  I jess  kep’  on  runnin’,  and  when  de 
bullets  ’gan  to  go  whiz-z-z-z,  and  de  big  shot  sing  whir-r-r-r, 
I jess  dodged  to  one  side,  an’  lay  down  in  de  fiel’  wha’  I bin 
eber  since!  You  don’  catch  dis  chile  foolin’  wid  dem  rebs 
any  mo’, — no  sah, — de  bullets  cum  too  clus,  an’  ’sturb  my 
appytite!  ’ ” 

“ As  a contrast  to  the  anecdote  just  given,  I offer  a tribute 
to  the  memory  of  a brave  Michigan  boy  who  gave  his  life  to 
his  country,”  said  Isaac  N.  Phillips,  corporal  of  Company 
A,  47th  Illinois  Infantry,  16th  Army  Corps: 

“ We  had  been  for  ten  or  twelve  days  lying  in  the  trenches 
in  front  of  the  frowning  batteries  of  old  Spanish  Fort,  one  of 
the  defences  of  the  city  of  Mobile.  About  the  fort  proper 
were  breastworks  inclosing  a large  extent  of  land,  with 
several  smaller  forts  having  mounted  batteries.  The 
13th  Army  Corps  lay  upon  the  left  of  the  16th  to 
which  I belonged.  I,  with  a large  number  from  our  brigade, 
was  doing  detail  duty  as  a sharp-shooter  up  in  the  saps  near 
the  rebel  works.  The  main  line  of  the  corps  lay  several 
hundred  yards  in  our  rear.  The  fighting  had  been  done 
principally  with  artillery,  and,  day  by  day,  as  the  siege  pro- 
gressed, and  the  tremendous  siege-guns  were  put  in  place  back 
on  the  main  line,  the  cannonade  upon  the  Union  side  grew 
more  terrible  and  deadly.  The  leaden  rain  poured  into  the 
port-holes  of  the  forts  by  the  vigilant  sharp-shooters  (whose 
well-directed  bullets  made  it  almost  impossible  to  man  the 
rebel  guns),  with  the  still  more  terrible  fire  from  the  bat- 
teries, and  the  ponderous  shells  from  the  mortars  far  back  of 
the  main  line  in  the  woods,  made  the  situation  of  the  c John- 
nies ’ precarious  in  the  extreme. 

“Those  great  mortar  shells!  Who  that  has  ever  heard 
the  sound  of  their  journey  through  the  sky  can  ever  forget  it! 
When  night  settled  down,  and  the  cannonade  would  cease, 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  319 

♦ 

the  stillness  semed  unearthly,  because  of  the  contrast,  no 
doubt,  between  that  and  the  great  turmoil  and  noise  of  the 
day;  and  this  stillness  was  only  broken  by  an  occasional 
musket  shot,  or  by  the  firing  from  the  immense  mortars  in 
the  rear.  A dull,  heavy  report,  followed  by  silence,  was  all 
that  indicated  the  starting  out  of  a thousand-pounder  on  its 
mission.  Looking  intently  in  the  direction  of  the  battery, 
some  comrade  would  exclaim:  6 There  it  goes!’  and  where 
his  finger  pointed  would  be  seen  slowly  climbing  the  sky 
what  appeared  to  be  a little  waving  torch.  Listening  in- 
tently we  could  hear  the  hissing  sound  of  the  burning  fuse  as 
the  immense  shell  turned  over  and  over  in  its  progress. 
c Wsh-wsh-wsh-wsh  ’ — nearer  and  nearer  it  came,  making  a 
slow,  majestic  progress  up  and  over  the  blue  dome  of  the 
sky,  until,  with  almost  miraculous  precision,  it  dropped  into 
the  fort  just  in  our  front;  and  the  fuse,  which  had  entertained 
us  with  its  little  harmless  pyrotechnics,  during  the  long 
aerial  voyage,  never  forgot  to  do  its  fatal  work  just  as  the 
shell  came  down.  It  would  seem  almost  two  minutes  from 
the  firing  of  the  mortar  to  the  explosion  of  the  shell — min- 
utes of  dreadful  suspense  to  those  inside  the  doomed  fort.  It 
was  a rare  accident  for  one  of  the  shells  to  miss  its  mark,  or 
fail  to  explode  at  the  proper  second  of  time  to  make  its 
mission  effective. 

w But  it  is  not  of  bomb-shells  alone  that  I am  to  tell  you. 
One  night  the  news  came  along  the  line  of  sharp-shooters 
that  the  rebels  were  thought  to  be  evacuating  the  fort.  It 
was  between  midnight  and  morning.  We  were  not  positive 
of  the  correctness  of  our  information;  but  we  were  not  long 
in  verifying  it.  Pell-mell  we  ran,  in  the  wildest  disorder, 
over  the  trunks  of  fallen  pines  and  among  the  rifle-pits 
skirting  the  rebel  breastworks,  scampering  recklessly  over 
ground,  which,  wild  rumors  of  buried  torpedoes  and  infernal 
machines  had,  only  a few  hours  before,  made  us  view  with 
profound  reverence  and  awe. 


320  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

“Sure  enough,  the  rebels  had  left  the  works.  Vc  picked 
up  a good  many  stragglers  in  the  timber  of  the  Enclosure 
skirting  the  bay;  and  a few  of  us  crept  down  in  the  dawning 
morning  light  to  the  water’s  edge  where,  under  cov;;r  of  the 
trees,  we  could  see  the  last  boat-load  of  rebels  embarking 
from  a little  island  some  three  or  four  hundred  yards  off  the 
main  land,  which  island  was  connected  with  the  shore  by  a 
plank  bridge  wide  enough  for  two  men  to  walk  upon  it 
abreast.  The  water  was  shallow.  The  rebels  had  passed 
over  this  plank  bridge,  and  as  we  lay  near  the  shoreward  end, 
two  men  dressed  in  butternut  clothes  came  running  back  over 
the  bridge  toward  us.  We  supposed  them  to  be  rebels,  but  as 
they  carried  no  guns  did  not  fire  upon  them.  When  they  came 
near  we  called  to  them  to  halt,  which  they  failed  to  do.  One 
of  them  raised  his  hand,  in  which  was  a short  stick  and  said, 
4 You  are  the  men  we  want  to  see.’  One  of  our  party,  noted 
for  rashness  and  haste,  mistaking  the  stick  in  the  hand  of  the 
supposed  rebel  for  a pistol,  fired  and  instantly  killed  one  of 
the  two.  The  survivor  called  out  that  he  was  a Union  pris- 
oner making  his  escape,  and  begged  us  not  to  fire  again;  and 
then  he  told  us  a story  that  touched  my  heart  with  a feeling 
I never  experienced  in  war  before. 

“He  and  his  companion  had  been  long  in  rebel  prisons. 
They  had  been  taken  to  Spanish  Fort  to  work  on  breast- 
works, preferring  hard  labor  to  the  festering  ennui  and  filth 
of  a prison  pen.  They  had  first  met  at  the  fort,  only  a few 
days  before.  The  survivor  did  not  know  more  than  the  giv- 
en name  of  his  dead  comrade,  and  that  I have  now  forgotten. 
He  belonged  to  a Michigan  regiment,— had  been  several 
months  a prisoner;  all  else  was  unknown.  The  two  had 
taken  advantage  of  the  confusion  in  embarking,  to  steal  away 
and  make  their  escape.  Just  at  the  moment  when  his  heart 
was  beating  high — when  he  supposed  himself  to  be  emerging 
from  the  jaws  of  death  and  the  mouth  of  hell,  as  it  were,  the 
poor  Michigan  boy  had  been  shot  by  his  friends. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


333 


‘‘He  was  tall  and  handsome,  and  not  exceeding  twenty 
years  of  age.  His  fine  features  and  cleanly  person  and  habit 
spoke  him  one  of  a good  family,  and  probably  city  bred.  We 
searched  his  clothes,  hoping  to  find  his  name  or  some  address 
to  which  we  could  write  and  tell  the  sad  story  of  his  death, 
but  none  could  be  found.  We  made  him  a grave  ‘by  the  sound- 
ing sea,’  under  the  shade  of  the  cypress  trees,  and  there  he 
sleeps  unknown  to  the  multitude;  but  not,  I trust,  ‘unhon- 
ored and  unsung.’ 

“Lee  and  Johnston  had  already  surrendered,  but  we  did 
not  know  it.  Doubtless  his  people — perhaps  his  mother— 
knew  he  was  a prisoner,  and  at  that  moment  her  heart  was 
beating  with  high  hope  at  the  great  news  of  Union  success 
which  was  soon  to  bring  her  boy  to  her  arms.  How  she 
must  have  watched  and  waited  and  listened  for  the  footsteps 
that  never  came ! How  she  must  have  scanned  the  news  of 
the  returning  prisoners  whom  peace  had  released  from  bond- 
age; and  who  knows  but  she  may  still  be  searching  for  the 
name  of  her  lost  boy  upon  the  headstones  of  the  many  popu- 
lous prison  graveyards!  But  no  power  less  than  that  which 
shall  reassemble  all  the  dead,  can  ever  bring  to  that  Michigan 
mother  the  sad  news  of  her  lost  boy;  and  then  let  us  hope 
'ts  great  sadness  may  be  turned  into  a still  greater  joy,  for  he 
gave  his  life  for  his  country  as  much  as  though  he  had  fallen 
*hile  scaling  rebel  ramparts,  bearing  his  country’s  flag.” 


CAMP  FIRE  XXXI. 


The  Sons  of  Veterans  — Origin  and  Principles  of  the 
Order  — No  Politics  Permitted  in  the  Organiza- 
tion— Friendship,  Charity  and  Loyalty — Major 
A.  P.  Davis,  the  Founder  — Gen.  Walter  S. 
Payne,  Commander-In-Chief  — 50,000  Sons  of  Sol- 
diers— Usefulness  of  the  Order  and  its  Value 
to  the  Country  — The  Ladies'  Aid  Societies  of 
the  Sons  of  Veterans. 

OYAL  valor  and  its  deeds  in  defense  of  the  Union  and 


liberty,  are  sacredly  enshrined  in  the  hearts  of  Colum- 
bia's millions.  No  lapse  of  time  can  efface  the  profound 
admiration  and  growing  gratitude  of  a rescued  and  happy 
people.  The  veteran  soldiers  are  everywhere  welcomed  and 
honored  as,  through  the  blessing  of  Providence,  the  success- 
ful saviors  not  alone  of  the  best  government  on  earth,  but 
also  of  freedom  to  mankind.  Every  city,  village  and  town  is 
proud  of  her  resident  heroes.  What  may  be  supposed,  then, 
to  be  the  sentiments  of  the  families  of  these  old  soldiers  ? 
How  will  the  boys  feel  with  a knowledge  of  fathers’  deeds 
that  the  whole  world  admires  and  pronounces  unequaled: 
Can  they  help  being  proud  of  the  honor  of  being  sons  of  such 
sires?  Can  they  do  anything  collectively,  as  well  as  individ- 
ually, to  prove  themselves  worthy  descendants  of  those  heroes  ? 
Is  it  in  their  power  to  be  of  service  to  the  country  ? 

These  and  similar  noble  thoughts,  burned  in  many  manly 
minds  for  upwards  of  fifteen  years  before  there  came  to  pub- 
lic notice  that  splendid  organization  — the  coming  patriotic 
power  in  our  land  — the  Sons  of  Veterans,  U.  S.  A. 

At  the  close  of  the  war  the  sons  of  soldiers  were  young 


Gen.  Walter  S.  Payne. 
Commander-in- Chief  of  the  Sons  of  Veterans , 77.  5.  A. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


323 


boys,  for  all  of  them  who  could  stand  on  tip-toe  and  appear 
large  enough  for  military  service,  had  rushed  to  the  front. 
Their  inexperience  would  not  be  competent  to  plan  an  associ- 
ation which  should  reach  throughout  the  whole  land.  Com- 
rades of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  came,  however,  to 
their  aid,  and  after  abundant  consideration  with  the  young 
men  themselves,  forwarded  in  November,  1881,  to  the  Com- 
monwealth of  Pennsylvania,  an  application  for  a charter  for  the 
Sons  of  Veterans.  This  was  promptly  granted,  and  the 
worthy  organization  appropriately  presented  to  the  nation. 

To  Major  A.  P.  Davis,  a prominent  comrade  of  the  G.  A. 
R.,  of  Pittsburgh,  Pa.,  belongs  the  honor  as  founder  of  the 
Sons  of  Veterans,  an  honor  of  which  any  man  may  be  rapt- 
urously proud,  and  that  will  increase  during  the  continuance 
of  the  Republic. 

The  order  fastens  in  the  memory  of  millions  a series  of 
brilliant  war-deeds,  many  of  them  sad  and  bloody.  But  those 
deeds  were  done  for  the  best  human  result,  viz.:  that  of  in- 
suring freedom  to  mankind.  The  Son  of  a Veteran  perpetu- 
ates the  noble  aims  of  the  country's  heroes,  as  well  as  their 
matchless  valor  and  sacrifice.  The  very  name  of  his  order  is 
an  inspiration  to  loyal  hearts.  Nor  is  he  nurturing  war  bit- 
terness, for  the  magnanimous  victors  astonished  humanity 
when,  after  conquering  resistance,  they  closed  the  war  by  ex- 
tending such  forgiveness  as  human  history  has  never  known. 

The  cost  of  maintaining  a young  men’s  organization  is  no 
greater  for  this  noble  object  than  for  the  many  that  are  far 
less  worthy.  Let  this  take  the  place  of  flimsy  associations 
for  fleeting  pleasure  ; this  which  furnishes  the  highest  human 
inspiration  to  manly  vigor  and  useful  lives ; to  heroic  chiv- 
alry and  valorous  nerve.  And  a unity  of  aim  can  be  secured 
in  this  compact  of  sons  of  gallant  men  that  is  unattainable 
elsewhere.  Partially  new  is  the  scope  of  this  society,  as  well 
as  the  illustrious  belongings  that  crown  it  with  glory ; but  it 


324 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


is  built  on  an  underlying  principle  of  priceless  worth  to  man- 
kind— that  of  American  valor,  American  energy,  American 
sacrifice  ; in  fine,  American  manhood,  the  highest  type,  be-* 
cause  the  product  of  freedom. 

The  glory  of  a nation  is  its  young  men.  Let  the  sons  of 
the  preservers  of  our  Union  hold  worthily  the  same  love  of 
country,  and  they  form  a splendid  phalanx  of  blessing.  None 
can  be  more  brilliant,  none  more  talented,  none  more  power- 
ful, none  more  noble  than  the  keen  American  youth  whose 
fathers  have  bequeathed  them  a ceaseless  inspiration.  The 
founders  of  the  Sons  of  Veterans  builded  better  than  they 
knew,  for  they  launched  an  institution  that  should  foster 
energetic  manhood,  chivalry,  self-sacrifice  and  vigilance.  An 
association  raised  above  the  bickerings  and  pelf  of  politics  — 
that  should  ignore  differences  of  belief  on  all  other  subjects 
than  that  of  their  unfaltering  loyalty,  and  of  strong,  honorable 
manhood  in  its  behalf.  For  all  know  that  American  loyalty 
is  the  safeguard  of  freedom  to  mankind.  When,  therefore, 
the  boys,  in  connection  with  necessary  pursuits  in  life’s  use- 
fulness, attend  also  to  their  calling  as  Sons  of  Veterans,  they 
are  marching  as  chivalrous  knights  of  nerve  and  strength, 
bringing  blessing  to  the  race. 

There  have  been  several  societies  started,  one  of  them  as 
early  as  1879.  All,  however,  have  been  merged  into  this 
grand  body,  and  to-day  the  Sons  of  Veterans,  U.  S.  A., 
extend  from  Maine  to  California,  and  from  Minnesota  to 
Florida,  being  found  in  thirty  States,  four  Territories  and 
the  District  of  Columbia. 

The  components  of  the  Order  are  — 

1st.  Local  Organizations,  known  as  Camps ; 2d.  State 
Organizations,  known  as  Divisions.  3d.  The  National 
Organization,  known  as  the  Commandery-in-Chief. 

The  Order  is  military  in  its  character  and  ceremonial  work, 
and  is  officered  in  accordance  with  army  regulations. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  AVAR. 


325 


Principles  : A firm  belief  and  trust  in  Almighty  God, 

and  a recognition  of  His  beneficent  guidance  in  the  preser- 
vation of  the  life  and  integrity  of  the  Nation. 

True  allegiance  to  the  Government  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  a respect  for  and  fidelity  to  its  Constitution  and 
Laws,  and  opposition  to  any  system  or  power  that  in  any 
manner  tends  to  impair  the  efficiency  and  permanency  of  our 
National  Union. 

Membership  : The  sons,  not  less  then  eighteen  years  of 

age,  of  deceased  or  honorably  discharged  soldiers,  sailors  or 
marines,  who  served  in  the  Union  army  or  navy,  during  the 
civil  war  of  1861-5,  and  sons  of  members  of  the  Order  not 
less  than  twenty-one  years  of  age,  are  eligible  to  membership. 

The  Constitution  provides  that  Posts  may  select  five  com- 
rades of  the  G.  A.  R.,  as  an  advisory  committee  to  assist  the 
Sons  in  their  work,  and  in  the  management  of  affairs.  They 
are  given  certificates  of  honorary  life  membership  in  our 
Order.  All  members  of  the  G.  A.  R.  are  privileged  to  visit 
any  Camp,  and  may  remain  during  the  entire  ceremony. 
We  always  give  them  a cordial  welcome. 

“We  have  builded  upon  the  firm  foundations  of  Friend- 
ship, Charity  and  Loyalty,  and  aim  to  make  our  work  practi- 
cal by  devoting  our  best  energies  to  the  welfare  and  happi- 
ness of  the  men  who  fought  and  bled  that  we  might  enjoy 
life,  liberty,  and  pursuits  of  happiness  in  a land  of  freedom, 
where  equal  rights  and  equal  justice  are  guaranteed  to  all. 

“ The  ‘ Boys  of  ’61-’65,’are  one  by  one  crossing  the  pon- 
toon bridge  to  the  other  shore,  joining  their  comrades  who 
have  ‘gone  before/  In  a few  years  the  ranks  will  be 
thinned  by  the  ‘Great  Reaper/  and  but  a rgmnant  of  the 
nation’s  defenders  — who  upheld  our  flag  from  the  shadow  of 
Sumter  to  the  sunlight  of  Appomattox,  will  be  left.  Who 
will  take  their  places  to  preserve  the  principles  for  which  they 
fought?  Who  are  better  fitted  for  this  work  than  their  sons? 


326  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

Who  appreciate  the  true  value  of  their  services  better  than 
we  ? We  ought  to  have  a Camp  in  every  community  where 
there  is  a Post  of  the  G.  A.  R.,  and  in  five  years  we  ought  to 
have  250,000  members.  Like  the  G.  A.  R.,  the  Order  of 
Sons  of  Veterans  is  not  a political  organization.  It  is  not  our 
province  or  work  to  have  anything  to  do  with  sectarianism  in 
religion  or  partizanship  in  politics. 

The  Sons  of  Veterans  have  been  fortunate  in  presiding 
officers.  The  first  Commander-in-Chief  was  Gen.  Frank  P. 
Merrill,  of  Auburn,  Me.  He  was  succeeded  by  Gen.  H.  W. 
Arnold,  of  Johnstown,  Pa.,  now  of  Denver,  Col.  Following 
him  came  Gen.  Walter  S.  Payne,  of  Fostoria,  Ohio,  who  was 
unanimously  re-elected  and  is  the  present  Commander.  His 
services  to  the  order  can  hardly  be  over-estimated.  He  rem- 
edied the  business  difficulties  and  financial  depression,  intro- 
duced thorough  system  into  the  books,  blanks,  records  and 
inspections  of  the  whole  force,  succeeded  in  inducing  the 
other  associations  of  Sons  of  Veterans  to  join  the  main  body, 
infused  new  life  and  ambition  into  all  the  members,  so  that 
very  great  gains  resulted  even  in  his  first  year  of  command. 
He  lifted  the  organization  so  that  it  began  to  secure  a hearty 
regard  from  the  G.  A.  R.  and  the  public  at  large. 

General  Payne  is  a prominent  comrade  of  the  G.  A.  R. 
He  enlisted  in  Company  D,  Fourth  Wisconsin  Infantry, 
April  19,  1861,  and  was  made  First  Lieutenant  before  he  left 
the  State.  He  was  provost  marshal  at  Relay  House,  Md., 
during  summer  and  fall  of  1861.  He  was  promoted  to  be 
Adjutant  of  his  regiment,  then  to  Captain’s  rank. 

He  served  under  Generals  Butler  and  Banks  in  the  De- 
partment of  the  Gulf  with  great  honor.  He  was  appointed 
Assistant  Adjutant  General  on  the  staff  of  Gen.  Thomas 
Williams  and  afterwards  with  Gen.  H.  E.  Paine.  At  Don- 
aldsonville,  where  he  commanded  two  companies  on  the  right 
of  his  brigade,  he  was  flanked  on  both  sides  by  the  Rebels. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


327 


He  held  his  position  till  the  twenty-six  pieces  of  artillery 
were  pulled  off  the  field.  He  then  marched  his  command 
back  in  good  order  and  rallied  the  rest  of  the  brigade.  He 
was  incapacitated  for  a year  and  a half  from  active  service  by 
ill  health,  and  was  then  commissioned  a Colonel  in  General 
Hancock’s  Veteran  Corps.  He  is  now  a successful  business 
man  in  Fostoria,  Ohio. 

“ Captain!  how  large  a force  does  Gen.  Payne  command  ?” 

“ Fifty  thousand  Sons  of  Veterans;  and  the  number 
increasing  with  great  rapidity.” 

“What  would  you  say  about  their  usefulness  and  value  to 
• the  country?” 

“I  would  say  strongly  that  this  brilliant  union  of  the 
best  elements  of  young  manhood  for  upholding  the  flag 
and  elevating  humanity,  serves  the  nation  in  a matchless  way. 
And  the  simple  fact  that  these  scores  of  thousands  of  earnest 
men,  brave  by  birthright,  are  supplied  with  military  knowl- 
edge and  discipline,  conveys  a sense  of  security  to  the  loyal 
millions  that  has  value  beyond  all  price.  They  are  a vade- 
mecum  of  safety  and  comfort.  The  old  veterans  are  dropping 
away  ; but  when  their  numbers  can  be  more  than  filled  by 
heroic  sons,  let  not  the  timid  take  counsel  of  fear.  The 
example  to  the  world  is  ennobling  for  this  immense  organiza- 
tion to  maintain  such  a mighty  tribute  to  American  valor,  and 
to  hold  extended  so  many  hands  and  purses  for  the  relief  of 
the  needy  soldiers  and  their  dependent  ones.  When,  with 
earnest,  manly  strength,  aided  by  lovely  woman,  they  honor 
the  departed  heroes  ; not  alone  with  the  choicest  flowers  on 
Memorial  Day  but  by  constant  incense  of  gratitude ; they 
are  lifting  the  thoughts  of  humanity  to  something  better 
than  self  or  mere  financial  accretion. 

And  woman  is  aiding  them . The  mothers,  wives  and  sisters 
of  the  Sons  of  Veterans  organized  in  June,  1884,  at  Danville, 
Pa.,  the  Ladies  Aid  Society  of  the  Sons  of  Veterans,  Miss 


328 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


Estella  Baus  was  chosen  the  first  President.  Her  successor 
was  Miss  Laura  F.  Martin  of  Lancaster,  Pa.,  who  was  unan- 
imously re-elected  and  is  the  present  efficient  National  Presi- 
dent of  the  order.  Her  efforts  have  been  very  great  and  suc- 
cessful in  advancing  this  charming  association.  Her  admin- 
istration has,  from  a handful  of  societies  two  years  ago  in 
Pennsylvania,  with  about  two  hundred  members,  extended 
the  order  into  fifteen  States,  with  a membership  of  nearly 
two  thousand. 

The  Ladies  Aid  Societies  have  been  warmly  endorsed  by 
vote  of  the  Commadery-in-Chief ; also  in  General  Orders  by 
Gen.  Payne  and  Division  Commanders  ; by  Camps  and  by 
prominent  men  in  the  order.  The  homage  of  commemorat- 
ing and  honoring  deeds  of  courage  and  chivalry  has  always, 
the  world  over,  been  best  graced  by  woman’s  sympathy  and 
love.  Let  her  pure  devotion  sanctify  the  ennobling  realm 
the  Sons  of  Veterans  are  privileged  to  hold.  Practically  they 
have  proved  of  great  assistance.  Their  good  works  furnish 
the  reason  of  the  rapid  increase  of  their  societies.  They  draw 
membership,  like  the  ladies  of  the  G.  A.  R.,  from  mothers, 
wives  and  daughters  of  veteran  soldiers  and  sailors  ; to  which 
they  add  the  wives  and  daughters  of  Sons  of  Veterans.  A 
glorious  career  is  before  them. 

The  Sons  of  Veterans  are  giving  great  attention  to  mili- 
tary drill.  Sometimes  they  are  mustered  into  the  State 
militia.  At  St.  Paul,  Minn.,  the  drill  of  Camp  No.  1.  is 
hardly  equaled  in  the  United  States. 

There  are  several  Sons  of  Veterans’  newspapers,  supported 
by  the  order  ; the  National  Reveille , Chicago,  the  Camp  Fire , 
Portsmouth,  Ohio,  and  the  Boy  in  Blue , Grand  Rapids,  Mich. 
Capt.  Gerry,  of  the  G.  A.  R.  Comrade,  Chicago,  has  a Sons 
of  Veterans  page.  Also  the  Veteran  Advocate , Concord,  N.  H., 
the  Veterans  Review , Indianapolis,  the  Grand  Advocate , Des 
Moines,  Iowa,  and  the  Arsenel , Minneapolis. 


•A.  MIDNIGHT  MARCH 


CAMP-FIRE  XXXII. 


TWO  OF  MOSBY’s  MEN  PERSONATE  UNION  OFFICERS A 

SUCCESSFUL  MILITARY  MANEUVER-CHARACTER  MAIN- 
TAINED NOTWITHSTANDING  THE  DEMORALIZING  IN- 
FLUENCES OF  ARMY  LIFE. 

MEMBER  of  Mosby’s  band  in  the  East  appeared  be- 
fore this  camp-fire  and  desired  to  relate  an  adventure 
which  occurred  within  the  Federal  lines.  He  was  per- 
mitted, and  spoke: 

“ After  the  winter’s  campaign  in  the  mountains  our  band 
settled  down  for  a time  in  the  beginning  of  March,  and  dur- 
ing the  latter  part  of  that  month  the  boys  spent  their  time  in 
individual  and  private  enterprises. 

“ Mosby  could  trust  his  men.  They  were  all  devotedly 
attached  to  him,  and  were  therefore  allowed  all  the  liberty 
they  wished.  They  would  organize  private  excursions  into 
the  enemy’s  country.  By  private  excursions  are  meant  those 
in  which  two  or  three  of  the  boys  would,  without  advice  or 
attention  from  any  officer,  put  their  heads  together,  and  lay 
plans  for  adventures  within  the  territory  of  the  enemy. 

“ One  of  these  escapades  is  too  good  to  be  longer  unre- 
corded. Sam  Underwood  was  known  among  the  boys  as  a 
mischievous,  prank-playing,  quick-witted,  dare-devil-sort-of-a- 
fellow,  not  without  a high  sense  of  honor.  He  had  been 
educated  at  the  University  of  Virginia,  and  had  both  the 
culture  and  the  powers  of  mind  to  have  made  a high  mark  in 
the  world,  but  alas  ! like  thousands  of  others  he  had  no 
tenacity  of  purpose,  and  when  the  war  broke  out  the  life  of  a 

33° 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


331 


partisan  was  too  enchanting  for  him.  After  that  he  could 
not  hold  himself  to  any  one  thing  long  enough  to  achieve 
substantial  results.  But  he  was  a fountain  of  humor,  and  his 
place  under  Mosby  was  just  suited  to  his  tastes — a freedom 
from  responsibility,  with  all  the  liberty  he  wanted. 

“ He  disclosed  one  of  his  plans  to  Bowie,  and  together 
they  started  to  work  it  out. 

“ They  found  themselves  after  a day’s  and  night’s  travel 
so  far  inside  the  Union  picket  lines  that  their  identity  was 
never  suspected.  They  were  loud-mouthed  Union  soldiers. 
They  had  clothed  themselves  in  the  captured  garments  of  the 
officers  who  had  been  taken  at  the  Dranesville  fight.  Mosby 
had  possessed  himself  of  certain  papers  which  had  thoroughly 
posted  him  in  the  names  and  numbers  of  the  regiments  of  the 
enemy.  These  papers  were  captured  with  the  Dranesville 
officers,  and  after  Mosby  had  used  all  he  wanted  from  them 
they  fell  into  the  hands  of  Underwood. 

“ The  two  daring  guerillas  were  at  least  forty  miles  inside 
the  Union  lines,  and  stopping  in  one  of  the  strongest  neigh- 
borhoods of  Shenandoah  V alley,  shook  themselves  in  humor- 
ous gratification  at  having  avoided  suspicion.  They  gave 
out  that  they  were  quietly  engaged  in  procuring  information 
for  the  government  at  Washington  as  to  how  the  soldiers  of 
its  armies  were  behaving  themselves  in  Virginia.  Their  fa- 
miliarity with  all  the  operations  of  the  Federal  forces,  the 
names  of  well-known  officers,  their  commands  and  subordi- 
nates, begot  confidence  at  once.  They  were  secret  agents, 
and  this  they  gave  out  as  the  reason  they  did  not  stop  in  the 
towns — they  could  get  more  reliable  information  at  a little 
distance,  where  their  mission  would  not  be  suspected  by  the 
army. 

“ They  had  been  in  the  neighborhood  but  three  days 
when  they  received  an  invitation  to  a party  to  be  held  at  the 
house  of  Daniel  Maxwell,  a celebrated  Unionist  of  that  coun- 


332 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


try.  The  Maxwells  held  first  place  in  the  social  ranks,  and 
were  really  a cultured  family.  It  consisted  of  Mr.  Maxwell 
and  wife,  one  son  sixteen  years  of  age,  and  two  daughters, 
respectively  eighteen  and  twenty  years.  They  were  indeed 
young  ladies  of  intelligence  and  refinement,  and  finished  edu- 
cation, having  graduated  at  the  head  of  their  class  in  one  of 
the  most  distinguished  colleges  of  the  North.  And  they 
were  as  beautiful  as  they  were  cultured.  Indeed,  they  were 
renowned  for  their  beauty,  and  for  the  exquisite  grac^  of  their 
demeanor. 

“ Into  this  family  Underwood  and  Bowie  had  right  of 
entree . To  confess  the  exact  truth,  as  they  afterward  said 
when  giving  an  account  of  the  party,  an  ‘ eerie  ’ sensation 
crept  through  their  hearts  as  the  evening  of  the  party  ap- 
proached. They  had  rather  stand  in  the  face  of  a whole 
Yankee  battalion  than  before  the  flashing  batteries  of  those 
two  beautiful  girls.  But  there  was  no  help  for  it.  Underwood 
was  every  way  qualified  to  move  in  any  circle,  but  Bowie  was  a 
novice  in  the  affairs  of  the  drawing  room  and  parlor.  Under- 
wood, however,  after  giving  him  a few  lessons  in  etiquette,  in- 
structed him  to  be  sure  and  not  talk,  or  try  to  do  so,  on  subjects 
he  did  not  understand.  ‘I’ll  do  most  of  the  talking,’  said  Un- 
derwood. ‘They’ll  expect  us  naturally  to  be  quiet  about  our 
business,  and  if  we  let  things  run  their  own  way  they’ll  come 
out  all  right;  and  then  we’ll  tell  the  boys,  when  we  get  back 
to  camp,  how  we  played  it  on  ’em;’  and  he  chuckled 
again. 

“ About  9 o’clock  they  mounted  and  rode  up  to  the 
Maxwell  mansion.  The  parlors  and  drawing  rooms,  cloak 
and  hat  room,  were  all  brilliantly  lighted.  Most  of  the  guests 
had  already  arrived.  A couple  of  colored  servants  in  livery 
stood  at  the  gate  to  show  them  in,  and  they  were  at  once 
ushered  into  the  cloak  room,  where  they  divested  themselves 
of  their  superfluous  wraps,  gave  a few  touches  to  their  hair, 


GEN.  JOHN  F*.  REA. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR 


333 


a few  whisks  of  the  brush  to  their  clothes,  and  were  conduct- 
ed down  the  broad  stairway  to  the  entrance  of  the  drawing- 
room. They  handed  their  cards  to  the  servant  who,  with  an 
overwhelming  bow  handed  them  to  one  of  the  Misses  Max- 
well who  stood  at  the  door  to  receive. 

64 Underwood  gave  no  description  of  the  lady’s  dress,  but 
in  answer  to  a question  concerning  it,  replied:  4No  one  would 
ever  think  of  her  dress,  who  looked  at  her  eyes.  She  welcomed 
us  with  a cordiality  that  made  one  forget  he  was  a stranger. 
She  took  my  arm  first,  led  me  to  her  mother  and  introduced  me. 
She  left  me  in  care  of  her  mother,  who  immediately  intro- 
duced me  to  her  husband.  Then  poor  Bowie  had  to  go  forward, 
but  he  sustained  the  ordeal  well — he  couldn’t  do  otherwise 
with  so  charming  a companion.  As  soon  as  it  was  proper 
we  were  presented  to  the  several  members  of  the  party,  ladies 
and  gentlemen. 

44  4 But,’  said  Underwood,  4 1 surrendered.  The  only 
Y ank”  to  whom  I would  ever  yield  was  that  charming  Evelyn 
Maxwell.  Bowie  and  I were  made  heroes.  Every  attention 
was  paid  us.  Bowie  was  looked  upon  as  a dignified,  quiet 
gentleman  of  distinguished  ability,  and  I had  to  pass  as  a sort 
of  chatterer.  But  so  goes  the  world.  Bowie’s  silence,  with 
an  unruffled  manner  to  maintain  it,  gave  him  much  char- 
acter. 

44  4 The  hours  passed  away  as  swift  as  merry  chimes  of 
Christmas.  Supper  was  announced.  And  such  a supper  as 
it  was!  Think  of  it! — roast  turkey  with  cranberry  sauce  and 
celery  of  home  raising,  moist  and  tender;  roast  beef  and  mut- 
ton, with  vegetables  to  suit.  Then  the  cake,  wine,  pastry, 
and  relishes  of  a dozen  varieties — Oh!  oh!  But  didn’t  Bowie 
wade  in!  I was  afraid  his  appetite  would  make  him  lose  his 
brains.  Never  dignified  man  ate  as  he  did.  I was  afraid  that 
in  satisfying  the  keen  demands  of  his  stomach  he  would  lay 
himself  open  to  the  suspicion  of  being  a 44hungry  rebel.” 


334 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


44 4 But  to  our  consternation  what  should  occur  this  hap- 
py hour  but  the  entrance  of  a Union  officer  who  seemed  to 
be  at  home  in  the  house.  The  supper  was  ended,  and  the 
gentlemen  were  lingering  over  their  cigars  and  wine.  We 
were  at  once  presented  to  him.  He  questioned  us  politely  as 
to  our  command,  inquiring  into  details  a little  too  closely  for 
comfort.  Bowie  shot  a glance  at  me  which  the  officer  caught. 
I could  see  that  suspicion  was  created.  I tried  with  abandon  and 
story-telling  to  efface  it.  I found  afterward  that  we  had  made 
one  fatal  omission  in  our  plans.  We  had  given  ourselves  the 
character  of  two  officers  of  Maine  regiments  located  in  the 
very  line  of  the  Confederacy,  and  we  had  forgotten  that 
Maine  men  do  not  use  the  Southern  “twang”  in  their  pronun- 
ciation of  words. 

44 4 Here  we  were — Yanks  talking  in  Southern  dialect! 
This  was  what  struck  the  Union  officer.  I felt  certain  that 
we  should  not  be  interfered  with  rashly,  nor  until  after  the 
party  was  broken  up  for  the  night.  I gave  Bowie  a signal, 
communicated  to  him  my  suspicions,  and  we  arranged  to  leave 
a little  before  the  accustomed  hour  of  departure.  We  effected 
our  purpose  quietly.  Under  the  pressure  of  sudden  news  we 
aroused  our  host  and  hostess  and  expressed  our  regrets  that 
we  must  cut  short  our  pleasant  hours.  We  bade  them  good- 
evening. 

44  4 Our  horses  were  pawing  at  the  gate,  and  the  darkeys 
were  patiently  holding  them.  We  were  accompanied  to  the 
door  by  Miss  Evelyn  Maxwell,  and,’ said  Underwood, 4 as 
we  were  passing  along  the  hall  I determined  to  kiss  those 
beautiful  lips  if  I died  for  it. 

44  4 Bowie  had  passed  out  of  the  door,  hat  in  hand,  await- 
ing the  close  of  the  few  words  of  good-bye.  Miss  Evelyn 
followed  me  out  on  the  portico  with  warm  invitations  to 
return  at  any  time. 

44  4 Suddenly  I j&ut  my  arm  around  her  drew  her  to  me, 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


335 


kissed  her  lips,  and  bounded  away.  Her  sudden  scream 
alarmed  the  house.  In  an  instant  I was  mounted  and  with  a 
dash  of  the  spur  our  horses  leaped  off  at  a fearful  pace.  I did 
not  say  a word,  only  led  the  way. 

“‘“What  the  d — 1 is  the  matter?”’  shouted  Bowie 
4 “ What  did  you  do  to  the  girl?  Hold  up,  man!” 

“ 4 On  I went.  I had  done  a dastardly  thing,  but  I’ll  sweai 
by  all  the  virtues  of  Diana  I didn’t  mean  to. 

“ 4 Soon  we  heard  the  sharp  clatter  of  hoofs  behind,  and 
knew  we  were  pursued.  But  we  gave  them  the  slip.  We 
rode  out  into  the  brush  till  they  passed.  We  recognized  the 
Union  officer  with  a following  of  eight  or  ten  men. 

u c We  rode  all  that  night  and  lay  in  the  shadows  all  next 
day,  and  finally  came  into  camp  after  an  absence  of  ten 
days. 

44tI  have  never  been  within  one  hundred  miles  of  that 
neighborhood  since,’  continued  Underwood,  cand  I live  in 
mortal  fear  lest  I might  at  some  unexpected  moment  run 
across  that  woman.  But  I’ll  swear  to  the  last  I couldn’t  help 
it.  And  if  she  could  know  that  it  was  not  meant  for  rude- 
ness, but  was  the  impulse  of  a romantic  feeling  as  a tribute  to 
her  beauty,  I do  not  believe — sensible  girl  that  she  is — it 
would  be  very  difficult  to  make  atonement.’  ” 

One  of  General  Sherman’s  admirers  then  asked  to  be 
heard  for  a brief  time,  ana  related  the  following: 

“In  that  desperate  battle  on  the  22d  of  July,  1864- 
when  General  McPherson  fell,  the  Army  of  the  Tennessee 
was  on  the  east  side  of  Atlanta,  but  in  a day  or  two  they 
withdrew  from  that  position,  and,  marching  in  rear  of  the 
Army  of  the  Cumberland,  formed  on  the  extreme  right  of 
the  army,  and  there  on  the  28th  of  July  fought  the  bloody 
battle  known  as  Ezra  Church,  where  the  rebel  troops  re- 
peatedly assaulted  them  before  they  had  time  to  entrench 
themselves,  but  were  in  every  instance  repulsed  with  great 


336  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

slaughter.  For  nearly  a month  after  this  the  contest  was  one 
of  outposts  rather  than  great  battles.  The  Union  lines  were 
steadily  advanced,  while  in  many  places,  as  we  afterward 
learned  by  actual  measurement,  there  were  less  than  sixty 
feet  between  the  fortified  picket  posts,  and  a continual  firing 
both  night  and  day  was  kept  up.  The  soldiers  went 
to  their  posts  under  cover  of  the  night,  and  had  to  remain 
close  on  the  trenches  all  day,  for  if  a head  was  shown  but  a 
moment,  it  was  sure  to  draw  a shot  from  the  enemy. 

46  On  August  26,  General  Sherman,  in  pursuance  of  a 
previously  conceived  plan,  withdrew  his  whole  army  in  order 
to  make  the  flank  movement  below  Atlanta  and  strike  the  rail- 
road at  Jonesboro  and  other  places,  for  the  purpose  of  cut- 
ting off  their  supplies. 

w To  prevent  the  rebels  discovering  this  movement  in 
time  to  attack,  it  was  necessary  to  maintain  the  picket  line 
for  several  hours  after  the  army  had  left,  and  this  duty  was 
assigned  to  Col.  Ira  J.  Bloomfield,  of  the  26th  Illinois,  with 
about  400  picked  men  from  the  15th  and  17th  Corps.  The 
troops  began  moving  shortly  after  dark,  and  by  10  o’clock 
they  were  all  in  motion.  The  noise  caused  by  the  artillery 
and  heavy  ammunition  wagons  aroused  the  enemy,  and 
several  times  they  made  a heavy  assault  upon  the  picket 
lines;  but  the  men  held  their  places  with  great  bravery. 
About  1 o’clock  some  of  the  men,  conscious  that  all  hope 
of  succor  was  miles  away,  and  oppressed  by  the  intense  dark- 
ness of  the  night,  and  the  ominous  silence  of  the  deserted 
camp  where  a few  hours  before  all  was  bustle  and  confusion, 
and  knowing  full  well  that  if  a determined  attack  should  be 
made,  they  must  ail  be  killed  or  captured,  became  alarmed, 
and  it  required  the  utmost  exertion  of  the  officers  to  hold 
them  steady.  But,  after  holding  the  lines  until  nearly  3 
o’clock,  they  withdrew  so  quietly  that  the  rebels  continued 
firing  at  our  picket  posts,  and  did  not  discover  our  absence 
until  daylight  next  morning. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  * 337 

“ Before  closing,”  said  the  last  speaker,  “ I wish  to  call 
your  attention  to  some  effects  of  army  life  on  character,  and 
how  these  effects  were  ove  rcome  by  the  counter  influences  of 
oeace  and  civilization. 

“ In  glowing  periods  Lord  Macaulay  describes  the  facility 
with  which  Cromwell’s  soldiers  gave  up  the  profession  of 
arms  and  devoted  themselves  to  avocations  of  civil  life,  so 
that  they  were  noted  for  their  diligence,  sobriety  and  pros- 
perity; but  never  in  the  history  of  the  world  has  such  a 
mighty  army  been  suddenly  disbanded  as  in  the  spring  of 
1865  at  the  close  of  the  rebellion;  yet  men  accustomed  for 
years  to  live  by  foraging,  or  taking  by  force  whatever  they 
needed  or  desired,  quietly  sank  back  into  the  ranks  of  civil 
life,  and  soon  became  distinguished  for  their  energy,  in- 
tegrity and  success  in  business,  and  no  less  so  for  their  fidel^r 
and  zeal  in  support  of  the  civil  government  of  the  country. 

“ Among  thousands  of  instances  that  might  be  cited  I will 
refer  to  a boy  who  enlisted  as  a private  when  between  seven- 
teen and  eighteen  years  of  age,  from  Tazewell  county,  Illi- 
nois. He  was  a mere  stripling,  slight  of  build,  but  rather 
tall.  The  hardships  and  exposure  incident  to  the  winter, 
campaign  under  General  Pope,  around  New  Madrid  and 
Island  No.  10,  in  March,  1862,  gave  him  the  camp  diarrhoea. 
His  appetite  failed,  and  his  captain,  thinking  he  would  die  if 
kept  in  the  ranks,  gave  him  permission  to  remain  with  the 
company  wagon  for  two  or  three  months,  by  which  means 
he  recovered  his  health,  rejoined  his  company,  and  proved  a 
faithful  soldier,  though  he  became  an  inveterate  gambler. 
Whenever  off  duty  he  could  be  found  playing  poker  or  some 
other  game  for  money,  and  such  was  his  nerve  and  self-control 
that,  though  he  lost  or  won  hundreds  of  dollars,  nothing 
more  could  be  told  of  his  feelings  by  looking  at  his  face  than 
at  a board.  His  winnings,  in  time,  became  large,  and  he  sent 
home  several  thousand  dollars;  and  on  the  march  from 


338  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

Atlanta  to  the  sea  he  won  until  his  bundle  of  bank  bills  be- 
came so  large  he  had  to  carry  it  in  a rubber  blanket.  He,  of 
course,  at  other  times,  had  great  losses ; but  when  the  army 
started  north  through  the  Carolinas,  Jan.  31,  1865,  he  was 
left  at  Port  Royal  Inlet  (because  his  time  was  out),  nine 
miles  from  any  Union  troops,  with  over  three  thousand  dol- 
lars about  his  person.  He  bade  his  comrades  good-bye 
because  refused  permission  to  go  along  with  them,  went  back 
to  the  coast,  was  mustered  out  of  service,  and  came  home  by 
the  way  of  New  York.  He  invested  all  his  money  in  land, 
and  began  farming  and  dealing  in  grain  and  cattle  in  his 
native  county.  He  sold  out  all  his  property  in  Illinois  a 
few  years  ago,  went  to  Nebraska,  entered  some  land  and 
bought  other  tracts  adjoining,  located  at  the  county  seat,  and 
is  to-day  worth  a large  amount  of  money;  but  above  all, is  a 
respected  and  exemplary  citizen.  This,  however,  should  be 
said  of  him,  that  when  he  left  the  army  he  entirely  abandoned 
gambling,  and  he  most  faithfully  kept  his  resolution  then 
formed,  to  do  so.  He  is  everywhere  noted  for  his  integrity, 
and  his  word  once  given  is  to  him  a bond.” 


CAMP-FIRE  XXXIII. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  BATTLE  OF  CORINTH A BRAVE 

BOY  IN  GRAY THE  OLD  CANTEEN. 

IT  can  tell  some  facts,”  said  Mr.  J.  W.  Evarts,  “ of  a de- 
ll tachment  from  the  15th  Illinois  Cavalry,  “ which  I 
^ have  never  yet  seen  in  print.  They  came  under  my 
direct  observation,  and  will  be  recognized  as  true  by  many  a 
comrade. 

“ I was  with  Stanley  and  Rosecrans  at  the  battle  of  Cor- 
inth, which  lasted  three  days,  the  heaviest  fighting  being  done 
on  the  4th  of  October,  1862.  On  the  evening  of  the  3d,  near 
sunset,  Rosecrans  left  me  to  watch  a road  two  miles  west  of 
the  town,  on  which  the  rebels  were  expected  to  approach  in 
force,  and  invest  the  place  that  night.  Price  had  sent  Rose- 
crans word  that  4 he  would  take  dinner  the  next  day  at  the 
Tishemingo  hotel,  or  in  h — 1 ! ’ I rode  a fleet  horse,  and 
planted  myself  behind  a large  tree  on  the  north  and  south 
road,  at  the  junction  of  the  road  leading  eastward  into  Cor- 
inth. Our  entire  army  had  gone  into  camp  behind  the  forts 
and  earthworks.  I was  probably  the  only  Union  soldier  out- 
side of  our  lines.  A half  hour’s  watching,  and  I saw  a dust 
rising  up  the  road  to  the  north.  A moment  later,  and  a long 
column  of  rebels  were  in  full  view;  in  the  scattering  timber 
for  some  distance  the  rebel  skirmishers  were  deployed,  and  ap- 
proaching in  line.  I waited  motionless  till  I could  identify 
the  personages  riding  in  front,  the  descriptions  answering  for 
Generals  Van  Dorn  and  Lyttle.  On  reaching  within  fifty 
yards,  realizing  my  safety  had  reached  its  limitation,  I put 

339 


340 


camp-fire  chats  of  the  civil  war. 


spurs  to  my  horse  and  darted  toward  Corinth  under  a shower 
of  bullets.  Reaching  the  tent  of  General  Rosecrans,  I made 
my  report,  and  the  battle  of  the  next  day  verified  the  identity 
of  tnose  rebel  commanders. 

“ The  most  tragic  scene  of  the  battle  of  Corinth  was  the 
charge  on  Fort  Williams  by  the  c Rebel  Forlorn  Hope,’  in 
which  four  hundred  volunteered  under  Colonel  Rodgers  to 
capture  the  fort  or  die  in  the  undertaking.  The  fight  com- 
menced at  daybreak,  and  had  raged  hot  till  about  noon,  with 
terrible  slaughter  on  both  sides.  Our  troops  numbered  27,- 
000,  and  an  area  of  five  or  six  square  miles  around  Corinth 
was  thoroughly  fortified,  and  long-range  guns  were  so  planted 
as  to  rake  the  rebel  columns  lengthwise  wherever  they 
formed.  A deep  ravine,  stretching  along  the  west  of  town, 
was  covered  with  fallen  trees,  making  a tangled  abattis  so 
great  that  it  was  difficult  to  cross;  but  the  rebel  legions 
climbed  from  limb  to  limb  over  tree-tops,  and  jumped  from 
log  to  log  across  a dangerous  bayou,  all  under  a raking  fire  of 
musketry  and  artillery,  many  dropping  dead  or  wounded 
among  the  brush;  and  to  the  number  of  several  thousand  they 
charged  through  line  after  line  of  our  bristling  bayonets  and 
the  slashing  sabers  of  three  thousand  of  our  cavalry,  reaching 
their  goal,  the  Tishemingo  hotel.  Our  cavalry  rallied  in 
force,  and  charged  them  back;  but  their  onslaught  grew  more 
desperate,  and  they  repeated  the  charge  the  second  time,  and 
were  a second  time  routed,  retreating  over  a thousand  acres 
strewn  with  the  dead  and  wounded  of  both  armies.  This 
weakened  the  spirit  of  the  rebel  commanders,  and  they  called 
for  the  fated  four  hundred  to  capture  our  greatest  stronghold, 
Fort  Williams,  whose  guns  were  pouring  a steady  stream  of 
destruction  into  their  decimated  ranks.  It  was  but  a moment 
after  Colonel  Rodgers  responded  to  lead,  that  the  four  hun- 
dred daring  men  were  in  line,  and  at  a little  after  noon  they 
rushed  like  mad  demons  upon  the  fort,  crossing  the  ditch  and 


camp-fire  chats  of  the  civil  war. 


341 


scaling  the  walls,  as  if  by  superhuman  dexterity.  Many  were 
killed  at  the  first  charge  by  the  hundreds  of  rifles  that  were 
blazing  at  them  from  every  direction.  The  charge  was  re- 
peated with  more  dauntless  heroism,  if  possible,  than  before, 
and  the  rebel  flag  was  no  sooner  raised  than  its  brave  bearer 
fell,  a corpse.  One  by  one  this  heroic  band  fell  dead  in  the 
ditch  or  in  the  parapet,  when,  last  of  all,  Colonel  Rodgers 
himself  grasped  the  broken  and  shivered  standard,  waved  it 
above  his  head,  shouted  victory,  and  the  next  moment  he,  too, 
fell,  pierced  through  the  heart.  Perhaps  there  was  never  a 
more  exciting  scene  in  the  annals  of  modern  warfare.  Those 
who  witnessed  that  terrible  charge,  could  not  feel  any  but  the 
deepest  admiration  for  such  unparalleled  bravery. 

“ Colonel  Rodgers  was  probably  the  largest  man  engaged 
in  the  war  on  either  side,  standing  six  feet  and  seven  inches, 
grandly  proportioned,  and  weighing  about  three  hundred 
pounds.  He  was  a lawyer  by  profession,  and  resided  at 
Holly  Springs,  where  he  was  highly  esteemed  for  his  nobility 
of  character,  and  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  ablest  and  most 
scholarly  attorneys  in  Mississippi;  and  though  a confederate 
soldier,  we  can  do  no  less  than  reverence  his  wonderful 
bravery.” 

“We  are  all  ready  to  pay  our  devotion  to  true  courage 
wherever  we  find  it,”  said  the  presiding  officer,  and  now  1 
will  offer  a tribute  to  4 The  Old  Canteen,’  that  staunch  friend 
of  true  courage  and  all  other  virtues,  by  inviting  Lieutenant 
Page  to  recite  some  beautiful  lines  on  the  subject,  from  an 
author  who,  though  unknown,  makes  us  feel  that  he  has  test- 
ed its  friendship. 

In  response,  the  following  was  rendered  in  the  most  appre- 
ciative manner: 

THE  OLD  CANTEEN. 

Send  it  up  to  the  garret?  Well,  no;  what’s  the  harm 

If  it  hangs  like  a horseshoe  to  serve  as  a charm? 

Had  its  day,  to  be  sure;  matches  ill  with  things  here; 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


Shall  I sack  the  old  friend  just  because  it  is  queer? 

Thing  of  beauty  ’tis  not,  but  a joy  none  the  less, 

As  my  hot  lips  remember  its  old  time  caress, 

And  I think  on  the  solace  once  gurgling  between 
My  lips  from  that  old  battered  tin  canteen. 

It  has  hung  by  my  side  in  the  long,  weary  tramp, 

Been  my  friend  in  the  bivouac,  barrack,  and  camp, 

In  the  tri  imph,  capture,  advance,  and  retreat, 

More  than  light  to  my  path,  more  than  guide  to  my  feet. 
Sweeter  nectar  ne’er  flowed,  however  sparkling  and  cold, 
From  out  chalice  of  silver  or  goblet  of  gold, 

For  a king  or  an  emperor,  princess  or  queen, 

Than  to  me  from  the  mouth  of  that  old  canteen. 

It  has  cheered  the  desponding  on  many  a night, 

’Till  their  laughing  eyes  gleamed  in  the  camp-fire  light, 
Whether  guns  stood  in  silence,  or  boomed  at  short  range, 

It  was  always  on  duty ; though  ’twould  not  be  strange 
If  ii>  somnolent  periods  just  after  “taps” 

Some  Colonel  or  Captain,  disturbed  at  his  naps, 

May  have  felt  a suspicion  that  “spirits”  unseen 
Had  somehow  bedeviled  that  old  canteen. 

But  I think  on  the  time  when  in  lulls  of  the  strife, 

It  has  called  the  far  look  in  dim  eyes  back  to  life; 

Helped  to  staunch  the  quick  blood  just  beginning  to  pour, 
Softened  broad,  gaping  wounds  that  were  stiffened  and  sore, 
Moistened  thin,  livid  lips,  so  despairing  of  breath 
They  could  only  speak  thanks  in  the  quiver  of  death ; 

If  an  angel  of  mercy  e’er  hovered  between 
This  world  and  the  next,  ’twas  the  old  canteen. 

Then  banish  it  not  as  a profitless  thing, 

Were  it  hung  in  a palace  it  well  might  swing 
To  tell  in  its  mute,  allegorical  way 
How  the  citizen  volunteer  won  the  day; 

How  he  bravely,  unflinchingly,  grandly  won, 

And  how,  when  the  death-dealing  work  was  done, 

’Twas  as  easy  his  passion  from  war  to  wean 
As  his  mouth  from  the  lips  of  that  old  canteen. 

By  and  by,  when  all  hate  for  the  rag  with  the  bars 
Is  forgotten  in  love  for  the  “Stripes  and  the  Stars;” 

When  Columbia  rules  everything  solid  and  sole, 

From  her  own  ship  canal  to  the  ice  at  the  Pole; 

When  we  Grand  Army  men  have  obeyed  the  last  call, 

And  the  May  flowers  and  violets  bloom  for  us  all ; 

Then  away  in  some  garret  the  cobweb  may  screen 
My  battered,  old,  cloth-covered,  tin  canteen. 


CAMP-FIRE  XXXIV. 


THE  LAST  CAMP-FIRE — END  OF  THE  SEASON THE  S.  P. 

U.  H.  VALEDICTORY A HYMN  OF  PEACE. 

SfT  WAS  spring;  not  one  of  the  springs  which  poets  dream 
M about,  but  just  simply  spring— the  annual  return  of  that 
^ season  which,  in  the  latitude  where  the  chats  had  been 
held,  consisted  of  a muddy  March,  a rainy  April  and  a flowery 
May.  It  was  the  same  as  any  other  spring.  The  morning 
had  been  just  as  frosty,  and  the  edges  of  the  small  streams 
and  mill  ponds  just  as  icy  (and  no  more  so)  as  any  other 
spring;  so  the  noon-days  grew  just  as  warm  and  pleasant;  so 
the  evenings  were  just  as  comfortable  and  chilly  alternately; 
so  the  birds  sang  just  as  sweetly;  so,  later,  when  the  thick, 
rich  mud  had  changed  to  yellow  clods,  the  grass  grew  just 
as  fresh  and  green.  . All  in  all,  no  one  could  have  any  cause 
for  special  self-congratulation;  but  all  alike  were  happy. 

The  man  of  brainwork  and  the  man  of  business  each 
again  could  brush  back  the  ruffled  locks  from  his  forehead, 
and,  drawing  a long  breath,  plainly  see  his  blessed  vacation 
in  the  distance  of  a short  month  or  so ; while  the  rested,  burly 
plowman  could  husk  himself  from  his  winter  haunts,  circu- 
late in  the  fresh,  free  air  of  an  American  field,  and  bend  to 
his  labor  in  the  full  hope  of  a beautiful  and  abundant 
harvest. 

In  thorough  and  strict  keeping  with  the  spirit  of  the  oc- 
casion, and  desiring  to  be  in  harmony  with  nature,  the  veter- 
ans, therefore,  in  camp-fire  assembled,  passed  a resolution 
which  gave  positive  instructions  to  the  janitor  to  abstain  from 

343 


344 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


igniting  the  fagots  until  further  orders;  the  resolution  to  take 
effect  when  this  fire  had  burned  itself  out. 

The  evening  was  devoted,  not  to  the  regular  order  of 
business;  but  to  general  leave-taking,  dreamy  remembrances 
of  the  enjoyment  which  had  been  offered,  and  to  a sort  of  re- 
view of  the  former  camp-fires.  Now  it  was  time  to  say 
“Good-bye.”  The  fire  began  to  wane,  and  would  soon  be  out, 
according  to  resolution.  Business  must  be  hurried  if  any 
were  to  be  done. 

At  this  time  an  idea  struck  a veteran.  He  would  call  on 
the  S.  P.  U.  H.  for  a speech  to  close. 

“ Moved  and  seconded,”  said  the  commander,  “ that  the 
Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Unpublished  History  be,  and 
the  same  are  hereby  requested  to  furnish  a speaker  for  this, 
our  last  camp-fire.”  Carried. 

The  society  refused  to  comply,  of  course;  they  would  not 
be  human  if  they  complied  on  being  asked  the  first  time. 
To  their  amazement  and  chagrin,  however,  the  veterans  did 
not  make  a second  request  for  awhile.  But  finally,  another 
invitation  was  extended,  which  the  society,  having  selected 
one  of  their  number  for  the  occasion,  was  very  careful  to  ac- 
cept, simply  for  the  reason  that  the  comrades  might  take 
offence,  since  they  had  originally  assembled  at  the  instance  of 
a similar  request  from  the  society. 

Everything  thus  arranged  and  agreed,  the  unfortunate 
member  of  the  S.  P.  U.  H.  who  must  speak,  suggested  that 
if  the  commissary  would  serve  coffee  and  hard-tack,  it  would 
allow  him  a little  time  for  reflection.  Granted.  The 
veterans  then  drank  coffee;  the  society  man  drank  coffee,  and 
reflected.  What  would  he  speak  about?  The  war  had  been 
the  subject  at  every  camp-fire  all  winter.  Reconstruction 
was  threadbare.  No  topic  of  sufficient  interest  presented  it- 
self. The  time  for  the  speech  was  now  at  hand.  The  speaker 
arose. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


345 


“Worthy  Commander,”  said  he,  with  great  dignity, 
“ I recall  to  memory  everything  which  is  of  no  interest.  The 
comrades,  I know,  are  weary.  We  have  just  had  supper. 
Supper,  dear  veterans,  is  the  only  meal  I really  enjoy,  except 
breakfast  and  dinner.” 

“ That’s  enough  of  that  harangue,  said  the  commander. 
" Spring  is  the  season  for  fresh  things.” 

“ Well,  there’s  nothing  to  talk  about,”  said  the  speaker. 
“ It  is  not  proper  to  exhort  your  patriotism  to  fight  another 
war;  that  only  one  flag  shall  rule  us,  has  long  been  settled; 
and,  indeed,  there  seems  no  demand  for  but  a very  small 
army.  What  shall  I speak  about?  The  plowshares  of  the 
regenerated  people  are  warm  with  energy;  honest  manhood 
among  them  is  flush  in  the  hope  of  great  fruitage,  nor  is  this 
hope  misplaced;  while  the  smoke  from  factories,  new  and 
old,  rises  from  a thousand  hillsides.  Only  a few  unruly  ones 
tamper  with  what  has  c ceased  to  be  even  remains.’  Ever  thus 
it  has  been.  When  a child  burns  his  finger  in  the  fire,  he 
naturally  becomes  mad  at  the  fire;  but  it  is  only  necessary 
for  him  to  thrust  in  his  hand  once  more  to  find  that  the  fire 
will  still  burn.  The  garment  of  charity  soon  covers  the 
wound,  which  may  be  healed  by  proper  doctoring;  and  when 
the  child  pushes  his  finger  through  the  garment,  it  needs  the 
hand  of  not  only  a stern,  but  modest,  mild,  and  loving  father 
to  administer  gentle  but  firm  renroof,  which  makes  the  family 
complete,  congenial  and  co  operative,  when  they  can  gather 
around  a camp-fire  and  swell  the  chorus  in 

A HYMN  OF  PEACE. 

The  echoes  of  war  now  have  traveled 
The  valleys  the  last  time  for  aye; 

And  the  hills  and  the  forests  are  silent, 

As  the  Angel  of  Peace  wanders  by ; — 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

While  the  unknown  now  sleep  whsre  they  suffered-® 
In  the  land  where  brave  charges  they  led ; 

Where  the  moss  droops  her  tendrils  in  mourning, 
And  the  mocking  bird  sings  to  the  dead. 

Unmarked  are  the  mounds  where  they  slumber, 

Their  names  are  unsung  and  unwept; 

But  their  deeds  are  not  lost  nor  forgotten, 

For  they’re  in  eternity  kept 

And  while  nature’s  monuments  freshen, 

In  merry  spring  over  each  grave 

Of  the  loyal  sons  of  the  nation, 

May  her  emblem  in  gratitude  wave. 

And,  too,  while  the  bosom  of  ocean 
Bears  the  harvests  away  on  her  tide, 

May  the  olive  branch  bend  in  the  sunshine, 

And  brotherhood  ever  abide. 

Then  let  all  the  hearts  that  are  heavy 
Be  cheered  by  the  smile  of  the  glad. 

And  every  one  who  may  be  happy, 

Make  happy  all  those  who  are  sad. 


/ 


Gen.  W.  T.  Sherman. 


CAMP-FIRE  XXXV. 


RALLY  AGAm!  — THE  VETERANS  MUST  MEET  TOGETHER  — 
HOW  THE  G.  A.  R.  GROWS — A THIRD  OF  A MILLION  COM- 
RADES— OVER  ONE  HUNDRED  THOUSAND  IN  ASSOCIATE 
SOCIETIES  — THE  BATTLES  AND  IMPORTANT  EVENTS  OF 
THE  WAR  ARRANGED  BY  DATES. 

“ THRALL  in!  fall  in! — why,  boys!  how  natural  the  call 

Jjfu  seems,"  said  Colonel , as  he  warmly  shook  the 

soldiers*  hands.  “I  declare!  I was  glad  to-day  to  have  word 
brought  me  that  the  vets  were  coming  out  to-night  for 
another  of  our  cozy,  social  camp-fire  chats.  We*ve  missed 
it  to  go  without  them  so  long.  No  matter  if  that  association 
with  a big  name  (that  rather  mixed  in  with  the  business 
parts  of  our  talks)  wanted  to  adjourn  and  did  adjourn,  the 
soldiers  don*t  propose  to  stay  adjourned.  The  ‘ Society  for 
the  Preservation  of  Unpublished  History  * may  hang  up  its 
harp  on  a willow,  but  the  boys  that  did  the  fighting  don*t 
propose  any  such  innocuous  desuetude.  Not  much!  I tell 
you  the  veterans  must  meet  together.  There*s  too  much 
solid  satisfaction  in  it  to  forego  the  pleasure.  The  posts  of 
the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  have  regular  meetings,  and 
each  one  is  a feast.  But  as  all  of  our  group  haven*t  yet 
joined  the  Grand  Army,  we  must  once  in  awhile  come  to- 
gether here.  When  all  our  boys  have  fully  ascertained 
what  the  value  of  the  G.  A.  R.  is,  they*llallbe  in  it.  Member- 
ship there  is  a grand  privilege  and  honor  to  all  who  are 
entitled  to  it. 

“ And  by  the  way,  boys,  since  our  last  camp-fire  here  the 
G.  A.  R.  has  made  immense  progress.  Since  this  grand 
Order  was  last  discussed  here,  there  have  been  three  National 
encampments  and  the  membership  has  more  than  doubled. 

349 


350 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


The  report  at  the  Seventeenth  Encampment  showed  971  Posts 
and  145,932  comrades  on  March  31,  1883.  The  report  at  the 
Twentieth  Encampment,  at  San  Francisco,  showed  that  March 
31,  1886,  there  were  38  departments,  5,765  posts  and  326,499 
comrades.  In  addition,  there  are  in  the  societies  of  the 
Ladies  of  the  G.  A.  R.,  the  Woman’s  Relief  Corps,  the  Sons 
of  Veterans  and  the  Daughters  of  Veterans  over  100,000 
more  — making  a grand  total  of  nearly  half  a million. 

“ This  Twentieth  National  Encampment  at  California  was 
one  of  the  grandest  assemblages  ever  held.  I am  going  to  have 
a distinguished  comrade  who  was  there  come  in  and  tell  us 
about  it  and  bring  us  some  of  the  good  things  that  were 
distributed  there.” 

“Janitor,  stir  up  that  fire,  and  make  it  a rouser  ! The 
veterans  are  going  to  have  some  brilliant  social  times  together. 
We  may  boil  some  beans  before  we  get  through.” 

“Colonel,”  said  a grim  old  sergeant,  “before  we  are 
favored  with  the  G.  A.  R.  history,  can  you  tell  us  where  we 
can  find  a perfect  list  of  the  battles  we  fought  from  ’61  to  ’65? 
A veteran  and  I were  looking  the  thing  over  the  other  day, 
but  couldn’t  get  hold  of  a complete  list.  We  want  the  full 
record,  including  other  important  war  events,  and  want  to 
keep  it  where  we  can  refer  to  it  at  any  moment.  I think  we 
would  all  appreciate  better  the  ties  that  make  the  Grand 
Army  soldiers  so  dear  to  each  other,  by  refreshing  our  mem- 
ories in  regard  to  all  the  battles  fought  by  the  boys.  The 
heat  of  those  conflicts  welded  bands  of  fraternity  and  affection 
that  can  never  lose  their  hold  on  faithful  hearts.” 

“Sergeant,  your  question  is  well  put,”  said  the  Colonel. 
“ I have  given  considerable  attention  to  securing  a complete 
list  of  the  battles  and  the  important  events  of  the  war.  I 
have  overhauled  and  compared  several  lists,  and  will  give  you 
one  to  be  depended  upon.  Before  I commence  reading,  how- 
ever, I must  insist  on  your  not  interrupting.  When  the  name 
of  a battle  is  mentioned  in  which  you  were  engaged,  if  you 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


351 


don’t  chain  your  tongues  a dozen  of  you  will  be  shouting  and 
wanting  to  tell  about  it.  Now,  if  you  do  that  we’ll  never  get 
through  the  list,  so  you  must  all  keep  still.  You  may  holdup 
your  hands  at  your  battle,  but  don’t  talk.” 

“All  right,  Commander,  begin  the  battles.” 

The  Battles  axd  Important  Events  of  the  War,  Ar- 
ranged by  Dates. 

1861. 

April  12-13,  Fort  Sumter  bombarded. 

April  18,  Harper’s  Ferry  arsenal  evacuated.  [more. 

April  19,  Massachusetts  troops,  under  Gen.  Butler  attacked  in  Balt! 
April  21,  Norfolk  Navy  Yard  evacuated. 

May  24,  Arlington  Heights  occupied. 

June  3,  battle  of  Pliillippi,  W.  Ya. 

June  10,  battle  of  Big  Bethel,  Ya. 

June  17,  battle  of  Booneville,  Mo, 

July  5,  battle  of  Carthage,  Mo. 

July  11,  battle  of  Rich  Mountain,  Ya. 

July  14,  battle  of  Carrick’s  Ford.  Ya. 

July  18,  battle  of  Centerville,  Ya. 

July  21,  battle  of  Bull  Run,  Ya. 

“ I was  there  ! ” shouted  several  together. 

“ Refrain  from  talking,”  commanded  the  Colonel. 

August  10,  battle  of  Wilson’s  Creek,  Mo. 

August  29,  battle  of  Hatteras  Inlet,  N.  C. 

September  10,  battle  of  Carnifex  Landing,  Ya. 

September  20,  battle  of  Lexington,  Mo. 

October  21,  battle  of  Ball’s  Bluff,  Ya. 

“ I was  there  ! ” said  some  of  the  boys. 

“ Will  you  keep  still  ?”  inquired  the  Colonel. 

November  7,  battle  of  Belmont,  Mo. 

November  7,  battle  of  Port  Royal,  S.  C. 

November  8,  Capt.  Wilkes  takes  Mason  and  Slidell  from  the 
steamer  Trent. 

1862. 

January  8,  battle  of  Romney,  Ya. 

January  9,  battle  of  Big  Sandy  River,  Ky. 

January  19,  battle  of  Mill  Spring,  Ky. 


352 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


- -m 

■ ' 39 


February  6,  battle  of  Fort  Henry,  Tenn. 

February  8,  battle  of  Roanoke  Island,  N.  C. 

February  16,  battle  of  Fort  Donelson,  Te'nn, 

“I-I-I-I  was  there  \ ” came  in  a perfect  chorus  of  voices. 
“ No  talking  in  the  ranks  ! ” sternly  ordered  the  Colonel. 
February  28,  Nashville,  Tenn.,  occupied. 

March  7 and  8,  battle  of  Pea  Ridge,  Ark. 

March  8,  battle  between  the  Merrimac  and  the  Cumberland. 

March  9,  battle  between  the  Monitor  and  the  Merrimac. 

March  14,  battle  of  Newbern,  N.  C. 

March  22,  Columbia,  Tenn.,  occupied. 

March  23,  battle  of  Winchester,  Ya. 

March  23,  battle  of  New  Madrid,  Mo. 

April  6,  battle  of  Shiloh,  Tenn. 

“I  was  there!”  “ I was  there!”  called  out  the  irrepressible 
veterans.  “ Silence  in  the  battalion!”  yelled  the  Colonel. 

April  7,  battle  of  Island  No.  10,  Mississippi  river. 

April  11,  battle  of  Fort  Pulaski,  Ga. 

April  24,  Farragut  passes  Forts  Jackson  and  St.  Philip,  La. 

April  25,  battle  of  Forts  Macon  and  Beaufort,  N.  C. 

April  28,  battle  of  Ft.  Jackson  and  St.  Philip,  La. 

April  28,  battle  of  New  Orleans,  La. 

May  4,  battle  of  Yorktown,  Ya. 

May  5,  battle  of  Williamsburg,  Ya. 

May  9,  battle  of  West  Point,  Va. 

May  10,  battle  of  Norfolk,  Ya. 

May  12,  battle  of  Natchez,  Miss. 

May  12,  Bank’s  retreat  down  the  Shenandoah  Yalley. 

May  23,  battle  of  Port  Royal,  Ya. 

May  80,  battle  of  Corinth,  Miss. 

May  31  and  June  1,  battle  of  Fair  Oaks,  Ya. 

June  4,  battle  of  Fort  Pillow,  Tenn. 

June  6,  battle  of  Memphis,  Tenn. 

June  27,  battle  of  Gaines’  Mill,  Ya. 

June  29,  battle  of  Savage’s  Station,  Ya. 

June  30,  battle  of  Glendale,  Ya. 

July  1,  battle  of  Malvern  Hill,  Ya. 

August  9,  battle  of  Cedar  Mountain,  Ya. 

August  29,  second  battle  of  Bull  Run. 

August  30,  battle  of  Richmond,  Ky. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


353 


September  1,  battle  of  Chantilly,  Ya. 

September  5,  invasion  of  Maryland  by  General  Lee. 

September  14,  battle  of  South  Mountain. 

September  15,  battle  of  Harper’s  Ferry,  Ya. 

September  17,  battle  of  Antietam. 

“I  was  there !”  “I — I — I” — roared  many  voices. 

“Keep  still !”  replied  the  Colonel. 

September  17,  battle  of  Mumford,  Ky. 

September  19,  battle  of  Iuka,  Miss. 

October  4,  battle  of  Corinth,  Miss. 

October  8,  battle  of  Perryville,  Ky. 

December  13,  battle  of  Fredericksburg,  Ya. 

December  29,  battle  of  Holly  Springs,  Miss. 

December  29,  battle  of  Chickasaw  Bayou,  Miss. 

December  31,  battle  of  Murfreesboro,  Tenn — also  January  2d,  1863. 

“The  Nineteenth  Illinois  saved  the  left!”  A perfect  vol- 
ley of  enthusiasm  checked  the  speaker,  and  not  until  fifteen 
minutes  had  passed  did  the  Colonel  obtain  silence. 

1863. 

January  1,  Negro  Slavery  abolished. 

January  1,  Battle  of  Galveston,  Texas. 

January  11,  battle  of  Arkansas  Post,  Ark. 

April  7,  attack  on  Fort  Sumter. 

April  29,  battle  of  Grand  Gulf,  Miss. 

April  and  May,  Union  cavalry  raid  by  General  Grierson  in  Alabama. 
May  1,  battle  of  Port  Gibson,  Miss. 

May  2 and  3,  battle  of  Chancellors ville,  Ya. 

“I  tell  you,  I was  there,”  spoke  up  an  excited  veteran. 
“DonT  mention  it,”  laconically  answered  the  ColoneL 
May  14,  battle  of  Jackson,  Miss. 

May  16,  battle  of  Champion  Hills,  Miss. 

May  17,  battle  of  Big  Black  River,  Miss. 

June  9,  second  invasion  of  Maryland  by  General  Lee. 

June  27,  beginning  of  raids  by  the  rebel  Morgan. 

July  1,  2 and  3,  battle  of  Gettysburg,  Pa. 

“I  was  there;”  “Now  I will  talk;”  “I  helped  give  the 
Johnnies  their  Waterloo  there;”  “I  fired  the  grape  and  canis- 
ter at  them;”  and  similar  expressions  were  heard  on  every  hand. 


354 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“I  am  glad,”  said  the  Colonel,  “that  so  many  of  you 
were  there  to  help  break  the  backbone  of  the  rebellion,  and 
were  spared  to  come  away.  But  don’t  talk  about  it  now,  or 
we  shall  be  unable  to  finish  the  list  this  week.” 

July  4,  battle  of  Helena,  Ark. 

July  4,  surrender  of  Vicksburg. 

“Hurrah!”  I reckon  I was  there!”  “I  was  too,”  cheered 
the  boys,  with  a vim  equal  to  the  Gettysburg  survivors. 
They  carried  the  whole  house  so  by  storm  that  all  the  Colonel 
could  say  was,  “ Don’t!” 

July  8,  surrender  of  Port  Hudson. 

July  13  to  16,  draft  riots  in  New  York  city. 

July  27,  Morgan  captured  near  New  Lisbon,  Ohio. 

August  21  and  22,  Quantrell  plunders  and  burns  Lawrence,  Kansas. 

September  1,  battle  of  Fort  Smith,  Ark. 

September  6,  battle  of  Fort  Wagner,  S.  C. 

September  10,  battle  of  Little  Rock.  Ark. 

September  19  and  20,  battle  of  Chickamauga,  Tenn. 

November  25,  battle  of  Lookout  Mountain,  Tenn. 

‘ ‘ Ah  ! we  were  there ! ” “We  climbed  those  cliffs !”  “So 
did  I!  ” cheered  a dozen. 

“ How  you  suppose  I can  read  with  all  that  racket  going 
on?”  smiled  the  Colonel. 

November  26,  battle  of  Mission  Ridge,  Tenn. 

“Never  mind  the  reading!”  “Hurrah  for  that  day!” 
“Please  to  write  in  your  list  that  I was  there?”  “I  was 
there  ! ” testified  several  gray-haired  heroes. 

“You  don’t  seem  to  keep  perfectly  still,”  mildly  expostu- 
lated the  Colonel. 

November  29,  battle  of  Knoxville,  Tenn. 

1864. 

February  20,  battle  of  Olustee. 

February  20,  Sherman’s  expedition  to  Meridian,  Miss. 

March  14,  battle  of  Fort  De  Russy  N.  C. 

March  24,  battle  of  Union  City. 

April  8,  Battle  of  Mansfield,  La, 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


355 


April  9,  battle  of  Pleasant  Hill,  La. 

April  12,  Fort  Pillow  Massacre. 

April  20,  battle  of  Plymouth,  N.  C. 

April  23,  battle  of  Cane  River,  La. 

May  4,  Army  of  the  Potomac  crosses  the  Rapidan. 

May  4 to  7 battles  of  the  Wilderness. 

“1  was  there  !**  “We  fought  in  the  woods/*  spoke  two 
old  men,  having  but  one  arm  each. 

“ I am  glad  you  got  out  of  the  woods,  boys/*  was  all  the 
Colonel  could  say. 

May  7,  Sherman  begins  his  march  to  Atlanta,  Ga. 

“We  went  along!**  “I  tramped  with  Uncle  Billy!** 
“ I was  there  ! **  was  shouted  before  the  Colonel  had  time  to 
raise  his  hand. 

May  7,  battle  at  Bermuda  Hundred,  Ya. 

May  7 to  12,  battles  near  Spottsyl vania,  Ya. 

May  14  and  15,  battle  of  Resaca,  Ga. 

May  15,  battle  of  Newmarket,  Ya. 

May  19,  battle  of  North  Anna,  Ya. 

May  25  to  28,  battle  of  Dallas,  Ga. 

May  and  June,  General  Sheridan  north  of  Richmond. 

June  1 to  3,  battle  of  Cold  Harbor,  Ya. 

June  5,  battle  of  Piedmont,  Ya. 

June  15,  Army  of  the  Potomac  crosses  the  James. 

June  15  to  17,  battle  of  Lost  Mountain,  Ga. 

June  18  to  21,  Assault  at  Petersburg,  Ya. 

June  19,  the  Kearsage  destroys  the  Alabama. 

July  5,  Early  invades  Maryland. 

July  9,  battle  of  Monocacy,  Md. 

July  20  to  28,  battles  before  Atlanta,  Ga. 

“We  were  there!**  “I  helped  there!**  and  a dozen 
hands  waved  aloft. 

J uly  30,  Chambersburg,  Pa. , burned. 

July  30,  Repulse  at  Petersburg,  Ya. 

August  5,  Farragut’s  Fleet  enters  Mobile  Bay. 

August  8 to  20,  Fort  Gaines  and  Fort  Morgan  taken. 

August  18,  Weldon  Railroad,  N.  C.,  siezed. 

September  2,  Atlanta  captured  by  Sherman. 


356 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


September  19,  battle  of  Winchester,  Va, 

September  22,  battle  of  Fisher’s  Hill,  Va. 

October  19,  battle  of  Cedar  Creek,  Va, 

October  27,  the  Ram  Albemarle  destroyed. 

October  31,  Recapture  of  Plymouth,  FT.  C. 

November  14,  Sherman  begins  his  march  from  Atlanta  to  the  Sea. 

“ Ha  ! ha  ! I was  there  ! ” “ Hurrah  ! we  went ! " “ We 

were  some  of  the  bummers  ! 99  66  1 foraged  ! 99  and  the  laugh- 

ter and  cheers  of  the  triumphant  host  nearly  took  the  ColonePs 
breath  away.  He  could  only  murmur,  “I  suppose  somebody 
was  there,  from  what  happened."  And  then  the  boys  sang 
every  verse  of  “Marching  through  Georgia,"  with  a double 
chorus,  before  they  would  let  the  reading  go  on. 

November  30,  battle  of  Franklin,  Tenn. 

December  13,  battle  of  Fort  McAllister,  Ga. 

December  15  and  16,  battle  of  Nashville,  Tenn. 

December  21,  Capture  of  Savannah,  Ga. 

December  24,  bombardment  of  Fort  Fisher,  N.  C.,  begins. 

1865. 

January  15,  Capture  of  Fort  Fisher,  N.  C. 

February  17,  Capture  of  Columbia,  S.  C. 

February  17,  Charleston,  S.  C.,  evacuated. 

February  22,  Capture  of  Wilmington,  N.  C. 

February  27,  Sheridan  goes  up  the  Shenandoah  Valley. 

March  2,  battle  of  Waynesborough,  Va, 

March  12,  Occupation  of  Fayetteville,  N.  C. 

March  15,  battle  of  Averysboro,  N.  C. 

March  18,  battle  of  Bentonville,  N.  C. 

March  21,  battle  of  Goldsboro,  N.  C. 

March  25,  Rebels  repulsed  at  Fort  Steadman,  Va. 

April  1,  battle  of  Five  Forks,  Va. 

April  3,  Petersburg  and  Richmond  captured. 

April  9,  surrender  of  Gen.  Lee  to  Gen.  Grant,  at  Appomattox  C.  H., 
April  13,  Sherman  enters  Raleigh,  N.  C.  [Va. 

April  14,  President  Lincoln  assassinated. 

April  26,  Surrender  of  Gen.  Johnston  to  Gen.  Sherman,  at  Raleigh, 
May  10,  Capture  of  Jeff.  Davis,  at  Irwinsville,  Ga.  [N.  C. 

May  26,  the  last  Rebel  force  in  the  South-west  surrenders  to  General 
Canby. 


CAMP  FIRE  XXXVI. 


EVENTS  PRELIMINARY  TO  THE  FIRING  ON  SUMTER — THE 

DIFFERENT  CALLS  FOR  TROOPS  — STRENGTH  OF  THE  ARMY 

— NUMBER  OF  SOLDIERS  FROM  EACH  STATE. 

“ TppjALLY  round  the  fire  !"  shouted  the.  Lieutenant,  and 
JL  V one  hundred  and  twenty- three  old  vets  disposed 
themselves  comfortably  for  a good  chat.  At  once  the  Ser- 
geant called  out  “ Before  our  forces  get  started  on  the  Grand 
Army  history  and  good  times,  I want  to  ask  another  question. 
I have  thought  a good  deal  on  the  list  of  battles  of  the  war 
that  we  had  last  time.  I took  down  a copy  of  it  and 
wouldn't  be  without  that  same  paper  for  a good  deal  ; but  I 
want  some  points  on  what  happened  before  Fort  Sumter  was 
fired  on.  I know  it  was  South  Carolina  that  first  passed  the 
ordinance  of  secession.  Can  any  one  give  me  the  date  ?" 

“December  20,  I860,"  said  a high  private. 

“Well,  can  you  tell  me,  Mr.  II.  P.,  the  time  of  the  other 
states  seceding  ? " 

“Early  in  1861  secession  ordinances  were  passed  by  Mis- 
sissippi, Florida,  Alabama,  Georgia,  Louisiana,  Texas,  Vir- 
ginia, Arkansas  and  North  Carolina,  and  on  February  4, 1861, 
the  so-called  ‘ Southern  Confederacy'  was  formed  at  Mont- 
gomery, Ala. 

Kansas  had  been  admitted  into  the  Union  on  January  29, 
1861,  and  the  rebels  pretended  that  that  occurrence  and  the 
approaching  inauguration  March  4,  of  President  Lincoln,  was 
a menace  to  the  South.  They  got  together  and  rushed  things 
so  that  on  February  18  they  inaugurated  Jefferson  Davis  as 
President  of  their  “ Confederacy." 

“ Thank  you  ! " said  the  sergeant,  “ and  now  for  one  item 
357 


358 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


more.  I have  a sort  of  indistinct  • impression  that  a warlike 
demonstration  was  made  before  April  12,  when  Sumter  was 
fired  on.  But  I want  definite  information.” 

The  historical  veteran  replied:  “Of  course  every  one  , 
knows  that  the  rebels  stole  everything  from  the  United  States 
they  could  lay  their  hands  on  — cannons,  ammunition,  guns 
provisions  — in  fact,  pretty  much  all  the  property  government 
had  in  the  South.  And  on  January  9,  1861,  the  steamer 
Star  of  the  West  was  fired  into  off  Charleston.” 

“Well,”  said  the  sergeant,  rising,  “I  want  to  say  one 
thing,  right  here  : Look  at  the  amazing  forbearance  of  our 
government.  The  rebels  began  with  secession,  December  20, 
1860,  four  months  before  our  volunteers  were  called  out, 
April  15,  1861.  During  these  four  months  they  were  daily 
insulting  our  flag  and  stealing  all  in  their  reach.  And  on 
January  9,  1861,  over  three  months  before  our  volunteers 
were  called  for,  they  actually  fired  on  a United  States  steamer. 
Oh  ! how  many  tens  of  thousands  of  lives  that  delay  on  the 
part  of  the  government  cost  us  ! And,  besides,  the  traitors 
seeing  that  we  were  doing  nothing  only  talk,  took  us  for 
cowards  and  went  on  all  the  more  abusively.  Well,  there’s 
one  consolation,”  the  sergeant  grimly  added,  “they  found  out 
they  were  mistaken.” 

A tall  corporal  next  inquired  : “How  many  calls  for  sol- 
diers were  made,  and  for  how  long  service  ? And  how  many 
different  men  were  there  in  our  army  ?” 

The  well-posted  veteran  responded,  “General  John  A. 
Logan  made  the  address  at  the  tomb  of  General  Grant  on 
Decoration  Day,  1886.  He  therein  stated  as  follows : 
‘3,335,951  patriots  voluntarily  left  home,  family  and  peace- 
ful pursuits  to  defend  the  flag  of  our  Union.  Of  these,  nearly 
500,000  perished.’  His  statement  is  very  high  authority  for 
the  present  proper  estimate. 

“From  statistics  published  soon  after  the  close  of  the  war, 

1 can  give  you  a good  list  of  the  dates,  etc.,  of  the  different 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


359 


calls  for  troops.  You  had  better  take  out  your  pencils  and 
write  it  off. 

“Number  of  men  called  for,  with  date  of  each  call,  and  for 
how  long  a period  of  service.  Also  the  number  of  men  ob- 
tained under  each  call  to  June  30,  1865  : 


DATE  OF  CADE. 

NUMBER 
CABLED  FOR. 

PERIODS  OF 
SERVICE. 

NUMBER 

OBTAINED. 

April  15-  1861 

75,000 
82,748  ) 
500,000  \ 

3 months. 

93,326 

714,231 

May  3 1861, 

July  22  and  25  1861 

3 years. 

May  and  June,  1862 

3 months. 

15,007 

431,958 

87,588 

16,361 

374,807 

July  2 1862 

300,000 

300,000 

3 years. 

9 months. 

August  4 1862 

June  15  1863  

100,000 

300.000  ) 

200.000  \ 
200,000 

85,000 

500.000 

300.000 

6 months. 

October  17  1863 

February  1,  1864 

3 years. 

March  14,  1864 

3 years. 
100  days. 

1,  2 & 3 yrs. 
1,  2 & 3 yrs. 

284,021 

83,652 

384,882 

204,568 

April  23  1864  

July  18  1864  

December  19,  1864 

Totals  

2,942,748 

•2,690,401 

“The  calls  of  October  17,  1863,  and  February  1,  1864,  were 
combined,  and  the  product  of  the  draft  of  July  1863  was 
credited  thereon. 

“ In  addition  to  the  above  number,  63,332  men  were  ob- 
tained, chiefly  from  the  territories,  and  from  other  rebellious 
States,  under  different  calls,  and  for  various  periods  of  ser- 
vice. 

“The  whole  number  of  men  obtained  by  draft  was  168,649. 
The  whole  number  of  colored  troops  obtained  was  186,097.” 

“ I rise  for  a moment,”  said  the  intellectual-looking  cap- 
tain, “ to  draw  attention  to  the  perseverance  as  well  as  the 
grandeur  of  sacrifice  which  that  list  records.  The  first  call 
of  75,000  men  for  three  months,  was  then  supposed  to  be 
more  than  ample.  Afterwards,  in  May  (eighteen  days  later), 
82,748  were  asked  for.  Then  like  a lightning  flash  after  the 


360 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


battle  of  Bull  Run  (July  21),  came  th6  call  for  a half  million 
men.  The  Government  and  the  loyal  people  were  aroused  to 
the  truth  that  a great  war  was  on  hand.  Then  volunteers 
were  asked  for  ‘ three  years  or  during  the  war/  Now  mark 
well  the  response  ! An  uprising,  such  as  history  has  never 
known — at  which  all  nations  of  earth  were  filled  with  undis- 
guised amazement.  The  three  calls  united,  required  657,748 
men — and  behold  ! there  volunteered  807,557  ‘of  the  best  men 
that  ever  took  arms,  who  afterward  proved  themselves  the 
grandest  soldiers  of  all  time.  That  is  to  say,  there  rushed 
forward  above  the  two-thirds  of  a million  summoned,  a sur- 
plus of  150,000  men  ! The  excess  was  more  than  twice  the 
number  that  General  Washington  had  under  his  command  at 
any  one  time  during  the  Revolutionary  War. 

“ For  nearly  a year  these  sustained  the  battle  flags,  till  on 
July  2,  1862,  three  hundred  thousand  more  men  were  called 
for  three  years;  and  a month  later,  August  4,  1862,  another 
300,000.  Observe,  also,  that  400,000  were  called  for  in 

1863.  Still  the  rebellion  maintained  a mighty  front,  and  in 

1864,  one  million  two  hundred  and  eighty-five  thousand  more 
men  were  summoned,  most  of  them  for  three  years. 

“I  cannot  help  but  think  what  must  have  been  the  crush- 
ing anguish  of  heart  to  the  kind  and  noble  Lincoln,  as  duty 
compelled  him  to  direct  each  one  of  those  calls.  In  summon- 
ing so  many  to  danger  and  death  in  defense  of  Union  and 
liberty,  he  only  voiced  the  sentiment  of  all  the  noble  in  our 
land.  How  truly  he  spoke  the  will  of  the  loyal  millions,  was 
seen  in  that  unparalleled  response ; when  in  raising  3,000,000 
of  soldiers  for  the  fiercest  of  earth's  wars,  only  168,000  had  to 
be  coerced  by  draft.  Only  one  twentieth  part  of  those  vast 
armies  missed  the  glory  of  volunteering  to  defend  the  old  flag 
on  the  field  of  battle.  Boys  ! excuse  my  talking  so  much/’ 
said  the  captain,  while  his  face  glowed  with  the  old  time 
spirit,  “but  my  heart  is  full  every  time  I think  of  our  vol- 
unteer armies." 


CAMP-FIRE  XXXVII. 


STRENGTH  OF  THE  U.  S.  ARMY  AT  VARIOUS  DATES  AND  AT  THE 
PRESENT  TIME — THE  GRAND  ARMY  OF  THE  REPUBLIC —THE 
EIGHTEENTH  NATIONAL  ENCAMPMENT  AT  MINNEAPOLIS, 
MINN. 


[O-NIGHT,  boys.,”  said  the  Captain  in  his  eloquent 
way,  as  he  stood  near  the  fire,  “we  come  to  the 
mighty  force  of  the  present  — the  army  that  is  the  pride  today 
of  our  nation — the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic.  At  one 
time  (before  our  Camp  Fire  Chats  were  adjourned  for  a vaca- 
tion) the  subject  was  discussed  here  and  some  very  interesting 
things  said  of  the  Order.  That  society  with  a tremendous 
name,  that  was  allowed  to  attend  our  meetings,  published  in 
their  book  of  reports  an  account  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the 
Republic,  including  the  Seventeenth  National  Encampment. 
They  also  presented  the  platform  of  principles,  c Fraternity, 
Charity  and  Loyalty/  Of  course  every  veteran  knows  that 
no  person  is  admitted  to  membership  in  the  Grand  Army  un- 
less the  official  records  of  the  war  show  him  to  have  been  an 
honorable  soldier  with  an  honorable  discharge.” 

“ I wish  to  reconnoitre  a little,”  said  the  grim  Sergeant, 
“if  this  large  assemblage  will  permit  me.  The  various  lists 
of  facts  in  regard  to  Columbia’s  splendid  armies,  which  have 
recently  been  furnished  to  us,  are  very  highly  prized  by  my- 
self, and  I have  studied  them  over  a good  deal.  But  I notice 
that  neither  list  gives  the  strength  of  our  army  at  any  one 
time.  I see  that  our  well  posted  soldier  is  on  hand  again 
this  evening  and  I want  to  ask  him  to  favor  us  with  this  in- 
formation. We  can  then  turn  with  even  better  appreciation, 
from  the  glorious  army  that  was,  to  the  Grand  Army  that  ise” 

863 


304 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“In  quoting  the  figures  desired/'  said  the  High  Private, 
modestly;  “ I only  drop  the  reminder  that  at  all  times  after 
the  forepart  of  the  war,  a large  number  of  our  soldiers  were 
absent.  This  state  of  affairs  was  necessary  from  sickness, 
wounds,  imprisonment,  and,  at  some  more  inactive  times  of 
the  year,  from  furloughs  and  leaves  of  absence,  when  they 
could  best  be  spared  for  a few  days'  visit  to  the  loved  ones  at 
home.  And  as  the  list  I give  from  the  official  reports,  men- 
tions most  frequently  the  date  of  January  1,  (in  winter  inac- 
tivity), it  is  proper  to  introduce  this  explanation.  You  want 
to  preserve  this,  boys,  in  writing,  as  much  as  anything  else. 


Strength  of  the  United  States  Army  at  Various 
Dates. 


Date. 

No  Men  Pres’t. 

No.  Men  Abs’t. 

Total  Strength. 

January  1,  1861 

14,668 

1,704 

16,367 

July  1,  1861 

183,588 

3,163 

186,751 

January  1,  1862 

527,204 

48,713 

575,917 

January  1,  1868. . . . 

698,802 

219,389 

918,191 

January  1,  1864 

611,250 

249,487 

860,737 

January  1,  1865 

62G,  924 

338,536 

959,460 

May  1,  1865 

797,807 

202,709 

1,000,516 

“ Will  you  please  tell  us  what  is  the  number  in  the  United 
States  Army  in  this  good  year  of  1886  ?"  asked  a listener. 

“General  Sheridan  has  just  made  his  report,  which  gives 
the  present  strength  as,  officers,  2,102  ; enlisted  men,  23,946, 
total,  26,048." 

“Ha!  ha!  ha!"  shouted  one  of  the  veteran  Sherman's 
Bummers,  “they've  got  some  of  the  officers  left,  anyway  ; even 
if  there  aren't  many  men." 

When  the  laughter  had  subsided,  the  High  Private  re- 
marked, “You  mustn't  forget,  boys,  that  there  was  a navy  at 
the  time  of  the  war,  as  well  as  an  army.  Hundreds  of  thous- 
ands of  the  bravest  men  did  there  a most  heroic  service  for 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


365 


the  flag.  Add  their  number  to  the  army  lists  we  have  had, 
and  you  see  how  General  Logan's  figures  may  be  reached.  It 
will  also  increase  the  number  given  from  each  state,  and  fur- 
nish a basis  for  the  486,000  men  the  State  of  New  York  claims 
to  have  furnished,  although  the  list  I read  mentions  446,000/' 

“I  move  the  previous  question,"  said  a veteran  sharp- 
shooter, “and  that  nothing  further  be  allowed  to  interfere 
with  telling  the  history  and  the  present  value  of  the  Grand 
Army  of  the  Republic." 

“Second  the  motion,"  answered  the  sergeant,  “and  I do 
it  all  the  more  heartily  as  the  splendid  historical  lists  we  have 
had,  record  an  unequaled  tribute  to  the  men  who  now  consti- 
tute the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic." 

“Boys  !"  said  the  Captain,  “it  isn't  necessary  to  call  for 
a vote  to  show  the  unanimious  wish  to  hear  all  we  can  about 
the  Grand  Army.  I move  that  we  call  upon  the  comrade  who 
went  there  and  came  back  so  full  of  the  California  Encamp- 
ment. Let  him  tell  us  of  the  recent  history  of  the  organiza- 
tion and  the  grand  trip  so  many  made  to  the  Pacific  coast. 
And,  as  an  introduction,  I suggest  that  we  give  three  cheers 
for  the  G.  A.  R." 

The  old-time  way  in  which  those  hurrahs  rang  out,  almost 
loosened  the  plastering  from  the  walls. 

“Boys,"  said  the  veteran,  feelingly,  “it  is  an  honor,  as 
well  as  a pleasure,  to  try  to  speak  of  the  grandest  organization 
of  men  on  earth  — the  present  union  of  Columbia's  veteran 
soldiers.  I only  regret  that  a more  able  person  was  not  se- 
lected by  you  for  the  duty.  What  I may  say  will  be  mostly 
what  I have  gathered  from  the  deeds  and  words  of  others  of 
the  comrades,  as  well  as  the  official  records  of  the  Order. 

“I  have  been  looking  over  the  reports  of  the  former  series 
of  Camp-Fire  Chats,  and  I see  they  covered  the  ground  only 
till  the  Seventeenth  National  Encampment  at  Denver,  Col., 
July  25  and  26,  1863.  Since  that  time  three  more  have  been 
held,  the  Eighteenth,  Nineteenth  and  Twentieth.  So  much  at- 


366 


CAMP-FIBE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


tention  is  necessary  for  the  wonderful  growth  of  the  Order,  and 
its  kindred  societies,  and  for  the  narrative  of  the  Twentieth 
Encampment,  that  I can  only  glance  at  the  two  others. 

“The  Eighteenth  National  Encampment  was  held  at  Minne- 
apolis, Minn.,  on  July  23,  24  and  25,  1864.  There  was  an  im- 
mense attendance  of  old  soldiers  and  the  public  — a magnifi- 
cent testimonial  of  a loyal  people.  The  state  and  city  gave  a 
royal  welcome  to  the  veterans,  which  drew  out  the  following 
official  resolutions : 

“The  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  in  the  Eighteenth  Annual  Session 
of  the  National  Encampment,  assembled  at  Minneapolis,  Minnesota, 
desire  to  express  in  this  manner  their  grateful  appreciation  of  the  munifi- 
cent hospitality  of  the  people  of  Minnesota,  extended  on  every  hand  to 
them  and  to  their  comrades  and  friends  in  attendance  at  this  reunion. 
For  the  first  time  gathered  in  the  great  Northwest,  in  a state  that  has 
developed  such  wonderful  resources,  adding  so  greatly  to  the  wealth  and 
prosperity  of  the  nation,  welcome  made  more  than  welcome,  and  citizens 
have  vied  with  the  public  authorities  in  making  our  stay  pleasant  and 
memorable.  Therefore  it  is  unanimously 

“Resolved,  That  a committes  be  appointed  to  convey  to  the  people  of 
Minnesota  through  the  honored  Executive  of  the  state,  His  Excellency, 
Governor  L F.  Hubbard,  the  earnest  thanks  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the 
Republic. 

“Resolved,  That  in  cordial  appreciation  of  the  many  evidences  of  gener. 
ous  welcome  shown  in  the  decoration  of  public  and  private  buildings, 
the  reception  and  attention  given  by  the  officials  of  the  city,  and  the 
open-hearted  hospitality  extended  by  the  citizens  to  the  ex-soldiers  and 
sailors  of  the  Union,  in  attendance  at  the  Encampment,  the  hearty  thanks 
of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  should  be  conveyed  to  the  people  of 
Minneapolis,  through  its  esteemed  representative,  His  Honor,  the  Mayor, 
George  A.  Pillsbury,  whose  personal  attention  and  kindness  will  also  be 
long  remembered  by  the  participants  of  this  our  largest  Encampment 
and  Reunion. 

“At  this  Encampment  John  S.  Kountz,  of  Toledo,  Ohio, 
was  elected  Commander-in-Chief.  The  Adjutant-GeneraTs 
report  showed  a membership  on  March  31,  1884,  of  233,824.” 


CAMP-FIRE  XXXVIII. 


*HE  NINETEENTH  NATIONAL  ENCAMPMENT  AT  PORTLAND, 
ME. — MOTHER  BICKERDYCK  — MRS.  ANNA  WITTENMYER 
— FRATERNITY,  CHA  RITY  AND  LOYALTY  IN  THE  ORDER. 

gf| INHERE  is  so  much  to  tell,  boys,"  said  the  narrator, 

JL  ' “that  I must  rush  right  ahead.  Don't  interrupt, 
now  that  I turn  to  the  East. 

‘‘Loyal  New  England  was  glad  to  have  the  old  soldiers 
come  to  visit  the  sturdy  State  of  Maine,  and  furnished  a 
grand  gathering  of  welcome  to  the  veterans  and  their  fami- 
lies. It  has  sometimes  been  said  that  the  staid  Yankees  of 
the  far  East  were  not  so  demonstrative  in  manner  as  their 
broad-hearted  brothers  of  the  West.  The  mistake  of  such  a 
purmise  is  always  shown  when  a call  comes  for  deeds.  The 
yeomanry,  whose  ancestors  guided  the  Mayflower  to  Plymouth 
Rock,  and  built  the  foundations  of  Columbia's  greatness,  are 
;hips  of  the  old  block  when  action  for  our  country  is  needed. 
Their  record  in  the  Revolutionary  times  is  one  that  stirs  the 
heart  of  every  freeman  throughout  the  world  with  grateful 
pride  that  humanity  has  furnished  such  immortal  heroes. 
And  in  the  War  of  the  Rebellion,  it  was  the  vigorous  State  of 
Massachusetts  that  sent  13,000  men  more  than  her  quota 
demanded. 

“ Such,  then,  were  the  hearty,  genuine  patriots  that  were 
to  rise  in  welcome  to  the  old  boys  who  saved  the  land  from 
disunion.  To  say  that  the  veterans  of  the  Middle  States, 
of  the  West  and  Northwest,  as  well  as  the  Pacific  Slope,  were 
surprised  at  the  warm  greeting  they  received,  is  a mild 
remark. 

“Wednesday,  June  24,  1885,  was  a great  day  in  Port- 
367 


3C8 


CAMP-FLUE  CHATS  OP  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


land.  There  never  was  one  like  it  before  — there  will 
probably  be  none  like  it  in  magnitude  during  the  years  to 
come.  For  several  days  arrivals  poured  in  on  every  train, 
while  every  country  road  leading  into  the  Forest  City  was 
filled  with  farmers*  wagons  from  all  the  territory  around. 
Long  before  the  hour  of  the  grand  parade,  some  of  the  streets 
were  blocked  with  a mass  of  humanity,  restlessly  moving 
about,  or  frantically  endeavoring  to  find  a comfortable  place 
to  see.  The  weather  was  simply  perfection.  By  nine  o’clock 
the  walks  of  the  leading  thoroughfares  were  almost  impassa- 
ble. At  ten  o’clock  it  was  impossible  to  move  in  some  of  the 
lower  sections  of  the  city.  Every  point  of  vantage  was 
secured  ; windows  in  many  cases  commanding  a high  premium. 
Balconies  on  the  route  of  procession  were  filled  with  lady 
friends  of  the  owners.  On  State  street  twelve  hundred 
school  girls  dressed  in  white,  and  waving  flags,  welcomed  the 
veterans  with  patriotic  songs.  The  beautiful  lawns  on  this 
street,  which  stretch  to  the  curb,  were  protected  by  wooden 
platforms  which  were  filled  with  chairs  for  the  accommoda- 
tion of  ladies. 

“ The  route  of  the  parade  was  three  and  one-third  miles 
long,  and  the  procession  was  two  hours  and  thirty-seven 
minutes  in  passing  a given  point,  including  halts ; or  two 
hours  without  halts.  The  veterans  marched  at  a quick-step. 
It  is  estimated  that  twenty-three  thousand  men  were  in  line, 
while  three  or  four  times  that  number  of  people  viewed  the 
procession.  It  was  a splendid  pageant  and  one  that  will  not 
be  forgotten.  The  music  of  the  thirty-eight  bands  and 
forty  drum  corps,  the  varied  uniforms  of  the  various  com- 
mands, the  superb  banners,  the  torn  battle-fiags,  (for  several 
were  carried  in  the  ranks)  made  this  an  event  to  live  in  mem- 
ory. Doubtless  it  is  the  only  time  the  general  spectator  will 
ever  see  such  a gathering  of  these  old  veterans  who  saved  the 
nation’s  life.  How  proudly  they  marched  along,  beneath  the 
starry  folds  of  the  o1  d flag  for  which  they  endured  so  many 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OP  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


369 


hardships  — some  of  them  marching  together  for  the  last 
time  until  they  join  the  Grand  Army  above. 

“A  pleasant  and  natural  feature  was  an  immense  camp- 
ground, where  thousands  of  veterans  occupied  tents  in  the 
old  army  style.  I tell  you,  boys,  it  seemed  like  old  times  to 
hear  the  fellows  cutting  up. 

“ On  Wednesday  evening  there  were  splendid  fireworks  on  a 
hill  and  a magnificant  reception  at  the  City  Hall  for  those 
who  could  get  in.  It  would  have  done  your  hearts  good, 
boys,  to  have  heard  the  speeches  that  night.  I must  quote 
one  or  two  things  that  Gov.  Eobie  said  : 

“ ‘In  extending  to  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Eepublic  the 
greetings,  hospitality  and  admiration  of  a grateful  state,  the 
gratitude  with  which  our  hearts  overflow  is  stimulated  by 
pride,  joy  and  affection,  which  language  fails  to  describe. 
We  remember  your  loyalty  and  admire  your  achievements. 
We  honor  you  for  the  success  which  accompanied  your  sacri- 
fices on  the  battle-field  and  in  the  naval  engagements  for 
this  Union. 

“ ‘ The  United  States  is  a country  of  homes,  lovely  and  de- 
sirable only  by  that  ownership  and  contentment  which  the 
Goddess  of  Peace  and  of  Universal  Liberty  furnishes.  Her 
sovereignty  has  been  secured  largely  by  your  intrepidity, 
tested  by  the  sharp  sword,  the  glittering  bayonet  and  the  un- 
erring rifle.  The  life  of  the  Union  volunteer  has  been  writ- 
ten on  the  page  of  our  country’s  history  in  letters  of  living 
light. 

“ ‘ We  read  in  your  countenances,  and  feel  in  your  presence, 
the  varied  experiences  of  camp  life,  and  the  shock  of  battle  with 
its  mighty  memories.  You  have  acted  nobly  your  part,  and 
have  gained  such  unfading  laurels  that  it  is  a high  distinction 
for  our  state  to  be  honored  by  your  presence.  The  veteran 
soldier  and  sailor  did  the  hard  and  dangerous  work  of  the  war 
for  the  smallest  compensation,  and  without  a murmur.  He 
is  therefore  worthy  of  the  highest  honor  on  the  pinnacle  of 


370  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

fame.  It  is  just  that  on  public  memorial  monuments  of  brass 
mid  marble,  he  should  proudly  stand  with  his  gun,  sword  and 
knapsack,  as  the  conspicuous  figure  for  the  gaze  of  an  admir- 
ing posterity.  He  represents  that  which  is  noble  in  manhood, 
courage  and  honor,  and  is  known  to  all  men  as  the  savior  of 
the  nation.  Welcome!  thrice  welcome!  the  veteran,  volun- 
teer, private  soldier  and  sailor  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Ke- 
public. 

“ ‘ And  welcome,  also,  to  our  heart  of  hearts  the  noble  and 
loyal  women  of  our  land,  who  more  than  all  represent  the 
fruit  of  exalted  love  and  heroic  sacrifice,  in  their  gift  of  hus- 
band, son  and  brother  on  the  altar  of  our  common  country. 

“ 4 There  are  comrades  we  cannot  welcome  here  today,  for 
many  occupy  “the  windowless  palace  of  rest."  They  have 
passed  the  boundary  of  earth  and  now  live  beyond  the  river, 
sweetly  at  peace  with  all  men.  Gloriously  did  many  die  on 
the  battle-field,  on  the  ocean  and  in  the  hospital;  thereby  ful- 
filling the  highest  duty  of  life,  to  die  for  one’s  country.  They 
cannot  join  this  festival,  but  their  memories  are  constantly 
and  reverentially  with  us.  We  stand  by  the  solemn  pledge, 
as  long  as  life  lasts,  to  read  the  roll  of  honor,  although  silence 
gives  the  response,  “ died  long  ago  on  the  field  of  battle.”  We 
will  reverently  scatter  the  earliest  flowers  of  spring  upon  their 
hallowed  graves. ’ 

“ The  Governor’s  address  was  received  with  immense  enthu- 
siasm, and  to  the  sentiments  he  uttered  most  hearty  response 
was  made  by  the  vast  audience.  I tell  you,  boys,  it  was  a 
sweet  gift  of  recompense  to  have  our  deeds  so  gratefully  ap- 
preciated and  loved  by  the  pure,  cultivated,  beautiful  women 
and  the  noble  men  there  assembled,  and  to  feel  that  they  were 
simply  echoing  the  heart-beatings  of  all  in  our  land,  whose 
opinion  is  worthy  of  attention. 

4 4 Do  you  know,  comrades,  I some  times  think  that  we  didn’t 
really  appreciate,  at  the  time,  the  grandeur  of  what  we  were 
permitted  to  do  in  the  war  for  the  preservation  of  liberty? 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


Those  who  volunteered  (and  that  means  almost  all  our  north- 
ern soldiers)  went  principally  because  the  manhood  in  them 
would  not  permit  absence  from  the  defense  of  the  flag.  We 
could  not  have  been  contented  at  home  while  disunion 
was  threatening  the  nation's  destruction.  Our  soldiers 
generally  did  not  arrogate  to  themselves  to  be  better  than 
many  loyal  neighbors  who  remained  at  home.  We  simply 
went  ahead  and  did  our  duty  for  the  country  and  our  homes, 
as  best  we  could.  And  although  the  duty  was  hard,  with 
privations  and  trials,  with  perils  and  sickness,  with  sufferings 
and,  to  many,  death,  yet  the  doing  the  duty  was  more  desir- 
able than  shrinking  it.  Veterans!  it  is  no  arrogation  to  say 
that  such  action  is  the  natural  stamina  of  American  charac- 
ter. It  is  the  fibre  of  heart  and  brain,  developed  in  all  our 
real  men  and  women,  by  years  of  freedom's  inspiration. 
Easier  to  do  our  duty  for  our  country  in  danger,  than  to 
cravenly  shirk  from  it. 

“ Our  Union  was  treacherously  attacked.  We  sprang  to  the 
rescue  instanter;  determined  with  the  aid  of  the  God  who 
had  always  blessed  our  land,  we  would  preserve  our  country 
undivided.  After  the  rebellion  had  been  put  down  and  its 
armies  scattered,  and  we,  who  were  spared,  had  returned  to 
our  homes,  we  had  more  leisure  and  a better  chance  to  see  all 
that  the  conflict  meant.  Succeeding  years  have  brought  con- 
stantly to  our  notice  the  testimony  of  humanity  throughout 
the  civilized  world  as  to  the  pre-eminent  importance  of  that 
war.  Liberty  had  made  her  stand  in  America.  All  the  op- 
pressed of  earth  were  watching  our  land.  If  free  institutions 
should  fail  here,  then  would  the  many  millions  throughout 
the  world,  who  were  more  or  less  enslaved,  lose  heart.  They 
all  would  give  up  freedom,  as  an  impossible  thing  for  them. 
If  liberty  could  be  maintained  here,  it  might  enable  them 
sometime  to  obtain  their  “inalienable  rights  of  life,  liberty 
and  the  pursuit  of  happiness."  Imagine  the  prayerful  joy 
of  suffering  hearts  across  the  great  seas,  when  they  saw  our 


m 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


loyal  nation  following  the  guidance  of  Providence  and  remov- 
ing that  great,  dark  blot  on  our  fair  flag,  African  slavery. 
And  when  they  saw  the  unparalleled  valor  of  freedom's  adhe- 
rents steadily  winning  the  mighty  conflict,  0,  how  their  nerve 
and  manhood  were  strengthened! 

“ Our  successful  defense,  fellow-soldiers,  was  not  simply 
that  of  our  own  country,  but  also  of  the  foothold  of  freedom 
to  mankind.  Let  liberty  be  destroyed  here,  and  tyrants  and 
despots  would  keep  her  banished  from  the  earth,  probably, 
forever.  Let  liberty  be  successfully  defended  here  and  estab- 
lished triumphant,  and  her  deeds  and  blessings  will  inevita- 
bly spread  her  power  and  institutions  throughout  all  the 
world.  There  have  been  other  wars,  some  great  ones,  wars  of 
conquest,  wars  of  pillage,  wars  of  revenge,  wars  of  defense  of 
national  boundaries,  but  never  before,  save  in  our  own  Colum- 
bia, a war  for  the  defense  of  universal  freedom. 

“ So,  my  victorious  and  illustrious  comrades,  the  success 
which  heaven  granted  to  our  valor  is  the  most  important  event 
in  all  human  history;  with  the  single  exception  of  the  coming 
of  the  Savior  of  Mankind.  And  the  principle  of  universal 
freedom,  then  and  there  established,  is  of  more  value  to  hu- 
manity than  any  other  possibly  can  be,  save  only  that  of  per- 
sonal religion. 

“ No  wonder,  then,  that  added  years  only  increase  the  pub- 
lic appreciation  of  that  pre-eminent  service  of  Columbia's  war- 
riors. No  wonder  that  soldiers  are  honored  everywhere  for 
the  part  they  were  privileged  to  take  in  preserving  freedom's 
blessings.  No  wonder  the  ties  that  bind  together  the  hearts 
of  veteran  soldiers  here,  form  a fraternity  unequaled.  To  the 
fidelity  to  each  other  that  was  forged  in  the  furnace  of  war  — 
‘the  honor  of  a soldier' — to  the  sympathy  that  passed 
through  the  touch  of  elbows  in  front  of  blazing  cannon,  add 
a loyalty  to  freedom  that  inspired  deeds  of  inestimable  value 
to  humanity.  A membership  in  this  association  cannot  be 
secured  l>y  professing,  or  proposing  in  the  future  to  do  good 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


375 


deeds.  For  enrollment  here,  one  must  have  an  honorable 
record  for  deeds  already  done  as  a loyal  soldier.  A society 
founded  upon  those  unexampled  achievements  of  heroism, 
with  their  matchless  value  to  the  race;  a society,  whose  vital 
principle  is  loyalty  to  freedom,  has  a most  glorious  foundation 
for  its  existence,  and  stands  absolutely  without  a peer  among 
the  associations  or  orders  of  human  formation. 

“ What  I have  been  telling  you  for  a few  minutes,  comrades, 
has  been  a summing  up  the  glorious  principles  of  the  Grand 
Army  of  the  Republic,  not  only  as  set  forth  in  their  books  and 
laws,  but  also,  as  stated  by  the  eminent  men  belonging  to  the 
order.  I started  to  say  ‘ great  men  belonging  to  the  order/ 
but  all  the  comrades  are  great  men  in  patriotic  defense  of 
liberty.  The  veteran  soldiers  are  the  aristocracy  of  the  land. 
I do  not  refer  to  the  distinctions  which  society  may  try  to 
make  supreme,  or  the  glitter  with  which  misers  of  gold  may 
seek  to  dazzle  the  people.  I mean  by  aristocracy,  the  heroes 
who  have  proven  the  best  men  in  the  land  — the  dauntless 
hearts,  without  whose  valorous  devotion,  we  would  not  have 
to-day  a Union,  or  the  world  a home  for  liberty.  I mean  as 
the  best,  those  who  have  done  deeds  that  are  the  noblest  in 
human  annals. 

“ No  matter,  comrades,  if  a veteran  soldier  may  be  poor  in 
purse,  humble  in  position,  perhaps,  somewhat  ignorant  (for 
hundreds  of  thousands  gave  years  of  their  school  days  to  war 
duties),  he  has  proved  the  possession  of  immortal  and  self- 
sacrificing  courage.  lie  has  recorded  himself  by  his  deeds  as 
immeasurably  superior  to  the  devotees  of  fashion,  or  the 
worshippers  of  gold.  He  gave  himself  a sacrifice  for  years 
for  his  country's  good,  a sacrifice  with  instant  death  im- 
minent, or  prolonged  torture.  There  may  be  cavilers  who 
will  try  to  belittle  his  service,  possibly  with  a view  to  screen 
their  own  lack  of  his  nobility  of  courage.  The  crowded  par- 
ticipants in  commercial  enterprise  may  forget  the  pre-eminence 
of  the  soldier's  work  for  freedom,  where  the  events  of  an 


370 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


hour  were  of  more  importance  to  humanity  than  the  money- 
making of  centuries.  The  cavilers  and  the  hurrying  business 
followers  may,  in  the  rush  of  American  life,  be  guilty  of 
injustice  to  the  veterans,  who  secured  the  continuance  of  our 
prosperous  country.  Still,  boys,  the  fact  remains*  (and  we 
know  it),  that  the  men  who  saved  the  land,  are  its  best 
citizens,  the  truest  and  grandest  aristocracy.” 

“Hurrah!”  said  the  grim  sergeant,  “that’s  true.  And 
it  is  cheering  to  us  to  realize  that  the  best  people  in  the 
country  know  it.  They  join  heartily,  not  only  in  honoring 
our  deceased  comrades  on  Memorial  day  and  at  other  times, 
but  in  giving  to  the  living  soldiers,  before  life’s  march  is 
ended,  abundant  testimonial  of  grateful  appreciation  and 
love. 

“ But  I interrupted  the  comrade  to  remind  the  boys  of  the 
incident  where  President  Lincoln  decidedly  ‘took  down  ’ a 
crowd  of  pompous  moneyed  men. 

“A  large  delegation  of  them  came  down  from  New  York 
and  were  introduced  to  the  president,  as  being  worth,  in  their 
own  right,  a hundred  millions  of  dollars.  This  did  not  seem 
to  frighten  the  good  man,  who  listened  patiently,  while  they 
asked  to  have  a gun-boat  sent  up  to  New  York  harbor.  It 
was  at  a time  when  every  vessel  and  every  man  on  sea  and 
land  was  imperatively  required  for  pushing  the  war  into  the 
enemy’s  country.  The  president  told  them  that  fact,  and 
wound  up  by  saying  ‘ that  if  he  was  worth  one-fiftieth  part 
as  much  as  they  were,  and  was  one-hundredth  part  as  much 
scared,  he’d  go  right  home  and  build  a gun-boat  and  man  it, 
without  trying  to  bother  the  poor  government.’  Said  one 
who  was  present,  ‘ The  way  in  which  they  backed  out,  fur- 
nished a striking  illustration  of  the  infinitessimal  insignificance 
of  money  bags,  by  the  side  of  the  courage  of  a few  soldiers.’ 

“ Mayor  Deering,  of  Portland,”  continued  the  narrator, 
“followed  Governor  Eobie,  with  a very  eloquent  address  of 
welcome.  Some  grand  responses  were  made  by  General  John 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


377 


S.  Kountz,  of  Ohio  (then  commander-in-chief  of  the  G.  A.  R.) 
General  Alger,  of  Michigan,  General  Lucius  Fairchild,  of 
Wisconsin,  General  Henry  W=>  Slocum,  of  New  York,  General 
John  A.  Logan,  of  Illinois,  General  George  T.  Anthony,  of 
Kansas,  Comrade  T.  B.  Reed,  General  D.  R.  Austin,  of  Ohio, 
Comrade  George  H.  Patch,  of  Massachusetts,  and  Comrade 
Charles  A.  Boutelle,  of  Maine. 

“As  opportunity  permits,  I propose  to  quote  some  of  their 
eloquent  words,  as  stating  so  well  what  the  Grand  Army  of 
the  Republic  is,  and  what  it  teaches  and  accomplishes.  Not 
to  hinder  you  too  long  this  evening,  I want  to  speak  of  one  or 
two  things  done  by  the  Encampment. 

“ A telegram  of  sympathy  and  affection  was  sent  to  General 
Grant,  who  was  slowly  dying  at  Mt.  JVIcGregor,  N.  Y.,  and 
the  following  reply  — his  last  words  to  his  Grand  Army  — was 
telegraphed  by  his  son,  Colonel  F.  D.  Grant : 

“ * General  Grant  directs  me,  in  reply  to  your  dispatch,  to 
tender,  through  you  to  each  one  of  the  three  hundred  thou- 
sand veterans,  his  comrades,  now  represented  at  Portland,  his 
thanks  for  their  interest  in  his  health  and  welfare.  General 
Grant  wishes  to  take  this  occasion  to  also  thank  them  for 
their  splendid  services,  which  have  resulted  in  giving  freedom 
to  a race,  peace  to  a continent  and  a haven  to  the  oppressed 
of  the  world. 

“ The  case  of  Mother  Bickerdyck,  the  grand  old  army  nurse, 
so  dear  to  tens  of  thousands  of  soldiers,  was  mentioned.  She 
had  declined  aid  from  the  Department  of  California,  where 
she  lives,  and  was  in  need.  Promptly  the  Encampment 
voted  a donation  of  five  hundred  dollars  to  that  good  angel  of 
comfort  to  such  multitudes  of  sufferers.  She  saved  thousands 
of  lives. 

“No  official  action  was  necessary  in  regard  to  that  other 
eminent  army  nurse,  Mrs.  Anna  Wittenmeyer,  of  Philadel- 
phia. Yet  in  the  quiet  social  talks  many  a comrade  spoke 
with  the  most  hearty  eloquence  of  the  inestimable  good  this 


378 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


noble  woman  did.  She  had  passes  from  President  Lincoln, 
Secretary  of  War  Stanton  and  General  Grant  to  go  anywhere 
and  everywhere  in  the  lines,  and  make  such  arrangements  as 
she  chose  for  relief  of  the  sick  and  wounded  in  hospitals,  or 
on  the  battle  field.  She  put  in  operation  the  Diet  Kitchens, 
which  employed  nearly  three  hundred  ladies,  and  revolution- 
ized the  plan  of  hospital  cooking  in  the  entire  army. 

“During  the  discussions  of  the  Encampment  there  was 
brought  out  the  fact  that  the  entire  Grand  Army  of  the  Re- 
public now  recognizes  Dr.  B.  F.  Stephenson,  of  Illinois,  as 
the  founder  of  the  Order. 

“ One  important  subject  came  up,  and  was  very  thoroughly 
discussed.  In  Tennessee  and  some  other  Southern  States  ap- 
plications were  constantly  being  made  for  membership  in  the 
Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  from  veterans  who,  before  they 
were  in  the  Union  army,  had  been  forced  by  conscription  to 
join  the  rebels.  They  never  fired  against  the  Union  soldiers 
or  the  flag,  and  deserted  to  the  Northern  army  on  the  first 
opportunity. 

“But  they  can  not  join  the  Grand  Army.  Any  one  who 
has  worn  the  rebel  grey  can  never  wear  the  G.  A.  R.  badge. 
I haven't  time  to  tell  you,  boys,  tonight  of  the  grand  elo- 
quence with  which  these  principles  were  stated  for  which  we 
fought.  Treason  cannot  be  palliated.  Those  who  ever  aided 
at  all,  voluntarily  or  not,  are,  on  earth,  forever  separated 
from  the  loyal  soldiers  who  put  it  down. 

“The  strength  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  on 
March  31,  1885,  was  5,059  posts  and  275,218  members. 

“Gen.  Samuel  S.  Burdette,  of  Washington,  D.  0.,  was 
elected  Commander-in-chief." 


CAMP-FIRE  XXXIX. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG  — THE  TRIP  TO  CALIFORNIA  — 
THE  WONDERFUL  SCENERY  IN  COLORADO  — RECEPTION  OF 
THE  G.  A.  R.  AT  SAN  FRANCISCO  — BUSINESS  OF  THE 
ENCAMPMENT. 

“ TjSgtROM  Maine  to  California,  is  quite  a jump,  boys,” 
Ij p ~ said  the  comrade-historian,  “but  as  the  Grand  Army 
took  it,  the  narrative  must  follow  also. 

“'Every  comrade  of  the  G.  A.  R.  had  known  for  months  of 
the  magnificent  preparations  made  at  San  Francisco  to  honor 
the  old  soldiers.  The  local  committee  had  sent,  at  their  own 
expense  of  thousands  of  dollars  for  postage  alone,  letters  and 
circulars  with  interesting  information  to  every  one  of  the  over 
5,000  posts. 

“The  great  majority  of  the  veterans  passed  through  Chi- 
cago, with  a stop  for  a visit  to  that  wonderful  city.  Time 
forbids  me  to  try  to  speak  of  the  results  seen  on  all  sides,  of 
the  ceaseless  enterprise  of  that  wide-awake  metropolis.  But 
I should  wrong  every  soldier  if  I failed  to  mention  those 
three  magnificent  war  panoramas  and  battle  presentations, 
Gettysburg,  Mission  Ridge  and  Lookout  Mountain,  and 
Shiloh.  You  will  not  believe,  except  by  your  own  sight, 
what  a realistic  reproduction  is  there  given.  Part  of  the 
panorama  is  made  from  actual  earth  brought  from  the  battle 
field.  In  the  one  of  Shiloh,  is  a wooden  house  that  stood  on 
the  fighting  field.  The  canvass  painting  is  so  joined  to 
actual  objects  that  the  point  of  union  cannot  be  discerned. 
You  are  supposed  to  stand  on  a prominent  point  near  the 
middle  of  the  field,  and  all  around  the  battle  appears.  As  a 
grim  veteran  said,  as  he  enthusiastically  pointed  his  single 
arm;  ‘It  only  needs  the  racket  to  make  it  the  real  battle/ 

879 


Battle  of  Gettysburg  — July  1-3,  1803- 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


381 


“ As  Gettysburg  was  not  only  the  most  important  battle  of 
the  war  (as  having  broken  the  backbone  of  the  Rebellion),  but 
of  all  history,  it  commands  universal  attention.  An  enor- 
mous number  of  people  visit  the  panorama.  I secured  as  an 
especial  favor  some  pictures  which  the  panorama  affords  of 
the  battle.  These  pictures  are  not  mere  fancy  sketches,  but 
are  correct  reproductions  of  the  occurrences  represented. 
Weeks  of  study  and  survey  on  the  battle  field,  with  the  aid  of 
hundreds  of  Generals  and  soldiers  from  both  sides,  enable  the  ac- 
curate presentation  of  the  deeds  and  men  in  that  awful  carnage, 
even  to  incidental  details.  You  have  there  the  best  of  history. 

“ And  now,  boys,  we  leave  Chicago.  Of  the  beautiful  ride 
for  two  days  and  nights,  through  Illinois,  Iowa,  Nebraska 
and  in  Colorado  to  Denver  (a  distance  of  1,024  miles)  I must 
not  tarry  to  speak.  Nor  of  the  beautiful  and  wonderful  city 
Denver,  with  upwards  of  50,000  inhabitants.  Neither  of  a 
thrilling  visit  to  Colorado  Springs  and  Manitou,  seventy- 
five  miles  south  from  Denver,  at  the  foot  of  Pike’s  Peak, 
with  valuable  medicinal  springs  and  a score  of  wonderful  lo- 
calities. Through  all  this  section,  the  dry,  clear,  cool  and 
exhilirating  air  braces  one  up  wonderfully. 

“Pushing  westward,  in  the  narrow  guage  cars,  (one  train 
per  day  each  way)  in  a few  hours  we  reach  the  amazing  scen- 
ery of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  road  built  through  this 
has  justly  given  to  the  Denver  & Eio  Grande  Railroad  its  re- 
nown as  ‘the  scenic  route  of  the  world.’  The  track  is  laid 
along  the  bank  of  the  Arkansas  river,  which  runs  through 
canons.  A narrow  valley  is  flanked  on  each  side  by  rocky 
hills  and  mountains,  sometimes  in  precipices  from  1,000  to 
3,000  feet  high.  The  passage  is  occasionally  so  narrow  that 
it  becomes  a mere  fissure  through  the  heights.  Far  above 
the  road  the  sky  forms  a deep,  blue  arch  of  light,  but  in  the 
canon,  or  gorge,  hang  dark  and  somber  shades  which  the 
sun’s  rays  have  never  penetrated.  The  place  is  a measureless 
gulf  of  air,  with  solid  walls  on  either  side. 


382 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“ No  flowers  grow  nor  do  birds  live  in  this  solitude.  After 
passing  through  the  Grand  Canon,  the  narrowest  part  of 
which  is  called  the  Eoyal  Gorge,  we  come  to  a remarkable 
pathway  over  the  mountain,  named  Marshall  Pass.  Two  en- 
gines pull  the  train  in  a winding  course  up  steep  grades  and 
around  sharp  curves,  climbing  the  sides  of  the  mountains, 
and  often  passing  snow  banks,  till  in  an  hour’s  time  we  are  at 
the  summit,  10,858  feet  above  the  sea.  We  then  begin  the 
descent  on  the  other  side,  a ride  full  of  magnificent  scenery  ; 
the  train  sometimes  running  on  the  verge  of  sheer  precipices. 
Before  long  the  Black  Canon  of  the  Gunnison  is  reached. 
It  is  grander,  deeper,  darker  and  yet  more  beautiful  than  the 
one  we  recently  left. 

“ After  traveling  over  a hundred  miles  we  begin  the  steep 
ascent  of  the  Wasatch  mountains,  passing  through  Castle 
Gate,  which  guards  the  entrance  to  Price  Kiver  Canon.  There 
stand  two  huge  pillars,  or  ledges  of  rock,  which  are  offshoots 
of  the  cliffs  behind.  One  measures  500  feet,  the  other  450  feet 
from  top  to  base.  You  can  judge,  boys,  how  attractive  that 
scenery  was,  when  I tell  you  that  I rode  for  ten  hours  that 
day  and  evening  on  the  platform  of  the  car,  so  as  to  see  it. 
Prom  Denver  to  Salt  Lake  City  is  735  miles,  requiring  nearly 
two  days  and  nights  of  traveling. 

“ The  capital  city  of  Utah  is  a most  beautiful  place  of  over 
25,000  inhabitants ; having  broad,  straight,  level  streets, 
shaded  on  both  sides,  eighty  feet  wide  between  the  sidewalks 
and  twenty  feet  of  sidewalk  on  each  side,  with  running  brooks 
of  clean  water  dancing  along  by  the  curb  stone.  The  Grand 
Army  Post  of  the  city  hired  the  large  rink  and  set  tables  of 
ample  provisions  all  day,  free  to  all  comrades  and  friends 
with  them.  Every  evening  an  immense  camp  fire  was  held 
and  most  eloquent  addresses  were  given  by  comrades  from  all 
parts.  The  Mormon  iniquity  received  a liberal  scoring. 
The  comrades  there  say  they  are  living  in  a * hell  on  earth/ 
and  asked  that  the  whole  country  might  be  aroused  to  re- 


GEN.  GEO.  J.  STANNARD 


384 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


move  the  great  blot  of  polygamy.  Everybody  visited  the 
Tabernacle,  which  seats  12,000  people.  Also  the  new  and 
unfinished  Temple,  begun  thirty  years  ago,  that  will  cost  sev- 
eral millions  of  dollars.  And  nearly  all  took  a bath  in  the 
Salt  Lake,  with  its  astonishing  buoyancy  of  water. 

“From  Salt  Lake  City  to  Ogden  is  thirty-six  miles,  and 
from  there  to  San  Francisco,  895  miles  ; a ride  of  two  nights 
and  a day.  A portion  of  this  time  was  spent  in  passing 
through  as  desolate  a desert  of  sage  brush  and  sand,  as  could 
be  well  imagined.  When  the  Sierras  are  reached  there  is 
plenty  of  splendid  scenery.  There  are  drawbacks  in  having 
to  pass  through  forty-six  miles  of  snow  sheds  (thirty-six  miles 
continuous),  but  yet  we  see  enough  to  keep  us  filled  with  ad- 
miration. 

“Just  as  the  train  was  leaving  Sacramento  four  men  robbed 
an  Ohio  comrade  of  $150,  and  jumping  off,  made  their  es- 
cape. The  comrade  was  an  old  man,  of  over  seventy  years, 
who  had  his  wife  with  him.  He  had  borrowed  a part  of  the 
money  that  they  might  come  out  and  hunt  up  their  long  lost 
son.  They  were  left  penniless  and  overwhelmed  with  dismay 
and  grief.  A New  York  comrade  enlisted  two  others  with 
him  and  wTent  through  the  train  and  raised  $114,  and  gave  it 
to  the  old  veteran  — a practical  illustration  of  what  Fraterni- 
ty means  in  the  Grand  Army. 

“At  last  we  are  at  San  Francisco  — the  end  of  a journey  of 
2,690  miles  from  Chicago  and  3,666  from  New  York  City. 

“ On  landing  at  the  foot  of  Market  street,  the  first  thing 
that  impressed  one  was  the  prodigality  of  decoration.  Every 
building  displayed  flags,  banners,  G.  A.  It.  badges,  and  patri- 
otic emblems  and  drapery.  Many  were  literally  covered  with 
these  insignia  of  Columbians  greatness.  Single  business  firfns 
must  have  spent  hundreds  of  dollars.  At  the  top  of  the  Mar- 
ket street  grade  stood  a stupendous  arch  — seemingly  of 
granite  — erected  in  honor  of  the  Grand  Army  and  orna- 
mented by  appropriate  military  figures.  On  going  around 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OP  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


385 


the  city  one  soon  discovered  that  not  only  were  all  the  busi- 
ness streets  handsomely  decorated,  but  also  many  parts  of  the 
residence  portion  of  the  city.  The  location  of  *Frisco  on  a 
hill  made  the  display  especially  effective,  which  had  been 
beautifully  arranged  by  her  more  than  300,000  inhabitants. 

“In  the  parade  on  Tuesday,  August  3,  fully  20,000  veter- 
ans marched  in  line,  with  scores  of  bands  and  drum  corps, 
while  over  a third  of  a million  of  people  viewed  the  steady 
tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  and  cheered  themselves  hoarse  with 
enthusiastic  greeting.  A part  of  the  way  young  ladies  rode 
in  advance  and  strewed  the  street  with  flowers. 

“ To  every  soldier  wearing  the  badge  of  the  Grand  Army 
the  entire  city  were  ready  to  take  off  their  hats,  and  consid- 
ered it  a pleasure  to  do  so.  Did  a comrade  desire  information 
he  had  only  to  ask,  and  fullest  replies  were  given  with  a cor- 
diality as  if  inspired  by  years  of  friendship.  Business  men, 
and  all  citizens  seemed  eager  to  do  anything  to  make  the 
soldiers*  visit  pleasant.  They  were  not  obtrusive  and  for- 
ward, to  annoy  strangers,  but  held  themselves,  with  well-bred 
politeness,  always  ready  to  do  deeds  of  kindness  and  welcome. 
Ask  in  a business  house  the  distance  and  direction  to  a certain 
street,  and  the  proprietor  would  clap  on  his  hat  and  walk  to 
the  corner,  or  even  several  blocks,  in  order  to  show  you  the 
easiest  and  quickest  way.  They  seemed  to  have  given  up 
their  time  to  the  entertainment  of  their  guests,  and  appeared 
glad  of  an  opportunity  to  do  a favor  for  a soldier. 

“The  ladies  — and  they  are  very  beautiful  in  California  ; 
the  climate,  or  something,  seeming  to  make  them  unusually 
lovely  — often  forgot  the  ceremony  with  which  they  usually 
hedge  themselves,  and  accepted  the  veterans*  badge  as  a 
wholesale  introduction.  A limp  or  a scar  was  a patent  of 
nobility,  and  an  empty  sleeve  or  a wooden  leg,  an  emblem 
of  royalty.  At  this  distance  from  that  glowing  welcome,  it 
may  seem  to  you,  comrades,  to  be  an  exaggeration  for  me 
to  try  to  tell  you  the  simple  truth  of  their  attention  to  our 


386 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  AVAR. 


happiness.  But  the  most  gloAving  Avoids  that  any  one  can 
command  will  fall  far  short  of  the  reality  of  their  grateful 
regard,  everywhere  shown,  for  the  nation's  defenders.  They 
are  enthusiastic  over  there  and  in  the  habit  of  doing  things 
on  a grand  scale  when  they  choose.  They  had  not  seen  the 
Grand  Army  on  that  coast,  when  gathered  in  its  magnificent 
strength.  They  wanted  the  boys  to  come. 

“A  year  previous,  at  Portland,  a prominent  California  com- 
rade spoke  of  the  great  desire  in  that  state  for  the  soldiers  to 
visit  them.  Thousands  of  veterans  had  gone  there  since  the 
war  to  live.  One  Post  alone  (Geo.  H.  Thomas,  No.  2,  of  San 
Francisco),  had  members  of  532  different  regiments,  and  Avith 
two  exceptions,  no  two  men  belonged  to  the  same  regiment. 
That  fact  illustrates  Avhy  the  comrades  Avanted  a reunion  Avith 
the  members  of  their  old  regiments,  their  old  companies,  and 
with  the  men  that  fought  side  by  side  Avith  them  on  the  field 
of  battle  and  in  our  navy.  His  remarks  seemed  at  the  time 
to  be  rather  enthusiastic  and  figurative,  but  he  told  the  truth. 
We  found  that  his  figures  Avere  backed  by  an  appropriation  of 
$25,000  from  the  state,  $5,000  from  the  city  and  $75,000  from 
the  citizens'  subscriptions  ; supplemented  by  over  $25,000  ex- 
pended by  the  Posts  and  associate  societies,  not  to  speak  of 
the  scores  of  thousands  of  dollars  lavished  in  private  hospital- 
ity. San  I rancisco  undoubtedly  gave  over  a quarter  of  mill- 
ion of  dollars  to  honoring  and  entertaining  the  Grand  Army, 
in  addition  to  all  they  spent  for  decorations. 

“ Here  is  what  the  California  comrade  said  at  Portland 
about  the  people's  desires  in  California: 

“ ‘A  million  people  of  California,  wearing  their  hearts  upon 
their  hands,  Avith  the  strings  of  their  purses  unloosed,  speak 
in  thunder-tones  through  me  today,  “Come  to  San  Fran- 
cisco." And,  without  seeking  to  make  a figure  of  speech,  I 
will  tell  you,  boys,  if  you  elect  to  come  to  that  city  of  our 
Golden  State,  the  heroes  of  our  last  Avar  shall  Avalk  through 
the  streets  of  that  city  on  pavements  strewn  Avith  roses. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


387 


[Laughter  and  applause.]  The  people  ar6  ready  for  you;  the 
people  want  you;  their  arms  are  wide  open;  the  latch-string 
is  hanging  on  the  outside  of  their  door;  the  children  in  the 
streets  go  crying  for  the  members  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the 
Republic.  [Loud  laughter  and  applause.]  JSTo  woman,  no 
child,  no  man,  no  boy,  but  his  heart  is  filled  with  enthusiastic 
interest  for  the  comrades  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Repub- 
lic. * [Applause.] 

“ The  comrade  was  right,  boys.  I repeat,  that  what  he 
said  at  Portland  was  true,  and  it  was  a very  happy  choice  the 
Grand  Army  made  in  going  to  California  for  the  Twentieth 
Encampment. 

“ In  the  parade  a number  of  the  old  war  flags  were  carried; 
and  as  the  tattered  remnants,  riddled  with  baillets  and  rent 
with  the  storm  of  battle,  passed  along,  there  were  plentiful 
tears  in  manly  eyes,  as  well  as  in  those  of  beautiful  women.  The 
silent  story  that  the  shattered  banners  told  of  labor,  suffer- 
ing, danger  and  death,  and  of  unequaled  valor  in  defense  of 
the  dear  old  flag  — their  mute  appeal  touched  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  hearts.  And  the  boys  felt,  as  they  marched 
through  those  packed  streets,  that  the  hardships  of  war  re- 
ceived a compensation  in  the  grateful  homage  of  a united 
and  happy  people.  As  the  bright  sun,  passing  down  beyond 
the  Pacific,  marked  the  close  of  that  great  and  happy  day, 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  hearts  had  been  drawn  out  to  a 
closer  sympathy,  and  to  a grander  appreciation  of  valor  and 
sacrifice.  They  gained  a higher  love  for  the  glorious  land 
that  is  a beacon-light  of  liberty  to  the  human  race. 

“On  Tuesday  evening  there  was  a grand  night-parade  and 
an  escort  of  the  Encampment  to  Mechanic's  Pavilion  (capable 
of  seating  12,000  people).  A dazzling  feature  of  the  procession 
was  a pyrotechnic  display  by  the  Topeka  (Kansas)  Flambeau 
Club,  of  eighty  men,  who  fired  off  rockets,  Roman  candles, 
and  other  fireworks,  as  they  marched  along  (they  meanwhile 
drilling  in  military  evolutions).  A grand  reception  was  held 


388 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


there,,  with  eloquent  speeches  by  the  governor,  the  mayor, 
and  by  leading  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  orators.-  I am  not 
going  to  stop  now  to  try  to  tell  you  what  they  said.  There  is 
so  much  to  mention  of  what  the  people  did , to  make  that 
week  the  grandest  reception  that  has  ever  been  given  to  any 
body  of  men. 

“Wednesday,  August  4,  was  clear,  cool  and  delightful,  as 
were  all  the  days.  They  have  two  seasons:  the  wet,  from 
about  October  to  April,  and  the  dry,  from  April  to  October. 
We  were  there  in  the  time  when  they  don't  have  any  anxiety 
about  the  weather’s  interfering  with  festivities.  Occasionally 
a fog  comes  up  for  a short  time  (serving  to  remind  of  that 
New  York  luxury)  but  passes  harmlessly  away.  To  those 
who  come  from  the  regions  of  blizzards  and  scorchers  — from 
changes  of  thermometer,  ranging  from  100  and  110  above,  to 
10,  20,  30  and  40  degrees  below  zero  — the  climate  of  Cal- 
ifornia seems  wonderful.  The  average  on  the  coast,  at  latitude 
37,  is  46°  in  January,  and  69°  in  July.  The  trade  winds 
from  off  the  Pacific  ocean  preserve  a delightful  coolness. 
This  coolness  (only  in  the  air,  not  in  the  people)  was  more 
than  the  boys  expected,  and  I heard  some  of  them  say,  they 
were  not  really  warm  while  in  the  city,  except  when  getting 
near  a fire.  It  looked  odd  to  see  the  ladies  wearing  furs  in 
August. 

“ The  Californians  are  proud  of  the  climate,  and  I don't 
blame  them.  Some  of  our  comrades,  who  were  always 
inquiring  the  prices  of  things,  said  the  people  charged  from 
$500  to  $1,000  per  acre  for  the  climate,  and  threw  the  land  in.' 

“At  ten  o'clock  Wednesday,  a.  m.,  the  three  hundred  un- 
fortunate comrades  who  were  delegates  to  the  Encampment, 
had  to  shut  themselves  up  in  a hall  and  go  to  discussing  and 
fixing  up  business  details.  The  vast  majority  (and  estimates 
of  the  number  of  comrades  and  relatives  crossing  the  Rocky 
mountains  on  this  excursion,  vary  from  ten  to  fifteen  thou- 
sand — over  five  hundred  registering  at  Illinois  department 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OE  THE  CIVIL  AVAR. 


380 


headquarters  in  the  city)  were  free,  however,  to  enjoy  the 
luxuries  spread  out  before  them.  The  general  feature  of 
Wednesday  Avas  an  excursion  by  rail  through  the  Sonoma 
valley,  83  miles  north,  to  Cloverdale;  stopping  on  return  at 
Santa  Rosa  for  a grand  barbecue  and  reception  by  the  citizens 
there.  And  it  ivas  grand.  The  feast  provided  was  more  than 
could  be  eaten,  as  their  delicious  fruits  interfered  Avith  the 
boys'  former  army  success  as  devourers.  It  was  a marvel 
that  so  small  a place  as  Santa  Rosa  (4,000  people)  could  provide 
such  abundance.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  California  is 
not  so  thickly  settled  as  the  New  England  or  Middle  States. 
Santa  Rosa  and  Petaluma  (5,000)  are  the  only  villages  on  this 
route  that  exceed  about  a thousand  inhabitants.  Only  tAVO 
or  three  of  the  latter. 

“On  Wednesday  eA^ening  there  was  a splendid  concert  at 
Mechanic’s  Pavillion,  largely  of  patriotic  music,  ghren  by 
1,000  voices,  Avith  fine  orchestra.  While  close  on  to  15,000 
people  were  present,  more  than  that  number  were  turned 
away  from  the  doors. 

“On  Thursday,  August  5,  there  was  a railroad  excursion 
south,  eighty  miles,  to  Santa  Cruz  (5,000),  on  the  ocean,  and 
to  the  Big  Trees  (tAventy  acres  of  redwood  trees,  from  ten  to 
eighteen  feet  in  diameter)  Another  big  barbecue  and  recep- 
tion at  Santa  Cruz. 

“ On  Thursday  evening  there  was  a general  reception  at  the 
Mechanic's  Pavillion;  also  a grand  banquet  to  the  Encamp- 
ment— the  best,  without  exception,  that  has  ever  been  given 
to  the  Grand  Army. 

“ On  Friday,  August  6,  there  were  two  excursions,  one  to 
Monterey,  California's  greatest  watering  place,  about  a hun- 
dred miles  south,  with  its  big  IIotel-del-Monte,  and  the  other, 
eighty  miles  north,  on  the  North  Pacific  Coast  Raihvay. 

“On  Friday  evening,  the  national  convention  of  the 
Woman's  Relief  Corps,  gave  (at  the  spacious  Metropolitan 
Temple)  a magnificent  reception  to  the  National  Encamp- 


390 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


ment,  the  Society  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  the  Loyal 
Legion,  and  all  kindred  societies.  I wish  there  were  more 
time  to  quote  to  you  from  the  glorious  speeches  there.  The 
ladies  had  made  the  immense  hall  a perfect  fairyland  of  flowers 
and  beauty,  and  all  the  orators  were  inspired  to  excel  them- 
selves. 

“On  Saturday,  August  7,  there  was  an  immense  excursion 
on  steamers  around  the  bay  of  San  Francisco.  Everyone 
went,  as  the  National  Encampment  closed  its  business  session 
Friday,  p.  m. 

“ On  Saturday  evening  was  held  at  the  Pavilion,  probably, 
the  grandest  camp-fire  ever  known  anywhere.  Tables  were 
set  for  over  5,000  at  a time.  None  but  veterans  were  admitted 
to  the  lower  floor;  all  friends  (who  were  fortunate  enough  to 
get  in)  having  to  take  the  galleries.  More  than  ample  pro- 
visions were  supplied  (and  it  took  a good  deal),  including 
beans,  hard  tack  and  coffee.  The  vets  appropriated  (as  was 
expected)  the  tin  cups  and  wooden  plates,  and  tied  them  to  their 
buttons,  as  in  days  of  yore.  You  can  imagine,  boys,  what 
fun  nearly  ten  thousand  old  soldiers  would  have  at  such  a 
camp-fire  as  that.  There  was  some  speaking,  of  course,  but 
more  quiet  talks,  stories,  humor  and  army  drolleries,  and,  to 
wind  up  with,  singing  the  old  war  songs,  by  the  whole  crowd. 
And  didn’t  they  sing!  Why!  boys,  it  would  have  stirred  the 
blood  of  a wooden  Indian  to  have  heard  the  boys  then. 

“A  great  deal  of  singing  was  done,  in  both  going  out  and 
coming  back  on  the  railroad,  and  at  all  the  excursions  and 
meetings.  The  Modoc  Club,  of  Topeka,  Kansas,  twenty  gen- 
tlemen, who  are  splendid  singers,  were  everywhere  in  demand. 
Also  Chaplain  Lozier,  of  Iowa,  who  had  just  issued  a very  fine 
book,  and  Col.  Eedington,  of  New  York,  the  soldier-poet 
and  composer,  whose  songs  are  so  well  known.  Major  Hen- 
dershot,  the  celebrated  ‘ drummer-boy  ’ of  the  war-time,  fur- 
nished stirring  music  with  the  drum  presented  to  him  by  Horace 
Greeley.  Comrade  Eedington  was  invited  to  conduct  a social 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


391 


hour  of  song  of  the  old  war  songs  on  Sunday  afternoon.  It 
was  held  at  Irving  Hall,,  largely  attended  and  highly  enjoyed. 
The  power  of  song  and  its  value  in  strengthening  loyalty  is 
more  appreciated  than  ever  in  all  sections  of  the  Grand  Army, 
as  well  as  throughout  the  nation. 

“During  this  brilliant  reception-week  there  were  many  in- 
teresting occasions*  and  gatherings  on  not  so  large  a scale. 
Every  evening  there  were  from  four  to  twelve  receptions,  wel- 
come meetings  and  re-unions,  held  by  posts,  state  soldiers, 
prisoners  of  war,  regiments,  etc.,  etc.  During  the  day  post 
and  relief  corps  halls  were  kept  open  and  refreshments  served 
(to  the  extent  of  a hearty  feast)  free  to  every  veteran.  One 
day  the  Seven  Pines  Ladies*  Loyal  League  (now  the  Ladies  of 
the  G.  A.  R.)  fed,  between  12  and  3 o'clock,  nearly  one 
thousand  soldiers  and  relatives  with  a substantial  and  splendid 
banquet.  Different  Pacific  Coast  states,  cities,  counties  and 
localities  had  headquarters  in  the  city,  where  were  displayed 
interesting  and  wonderful  fruits,  products  and  curiosities; 
open  day  and  evening,  and  generously  furnishing  refresh- 
ments free  to  all  soldiers  and  relatives.  Generals  Sherman 
and  Logan  were  often  entrapped  into  speeches,  which  were 
received  with  immense  enthusiasm.  They  and  Generals  Fair- 
child,  Burdette,  Payne  and  others  were  besieged  for  their 
autographs.  Bands  often  gave  concerts  on  the  streets  ; fire- 
works were  displayed  ; some  of  the  theaters  and  places  of 
amusement  furnished  free  admission  to  veterans.  All  that 
abundant  money,  unremitting  labor  and  attention,  liberal  and 
splendid  humanity  and  lavishly  generous  hospitality  could 
possibly  do  was  thoroughly  done  for  their  guests  with  a charm- 
ing cordiality  and  kindness.  That  week  will  stand  out  in  the 
memory  of  every  Grand  Army  visitor  as  a bright  oasis  amid 
the  cares  of  life  — a fairy  time  of  beauty  and  joy. 

“ The  business  transacted  by  the  Encampment  was  mostly 
of  the  usual  routine  character.  Gen.  Lucius  Fairchild,  of 
Wisconsin,  was  elected  Commander-in-Chief.  The  member- 


392 


CAMP-PIRE  CIIATS  OP  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


ship  on  March  31,  1886,  was  reported  326,499  in  the  thirty- 
eight  departments,  a gain  of  56,805  during  the  year. 

“Perhaps  the  item  of  the  most  importance  generally  was 
the  action  taken  against  the  Mormons,  of  which  I will  try  to 
speak  at  our  next  chat;  also  of  some  other  interesting  points. 
I will  only  take  time  this  evening  to  tell  of  the  Oakland  and 
the  San  Jose  receptions. 

“Oakland,  with  thirty  thousand  people,  across  the  bay 
five  miles  from  ^Frisco,  is  called  the  ‘ Athens  of  the  Pacific 
Coast/  Monday,  August  9;  was  ‘ Oakland  Day  9 for  honor- 
ing the  Grand  Army.  We  found  there  the  decorations  plen- 
tiful and  in  great  variety.  A grand  parade  was  held,  second 
only  to  that  in  San  Francisco.  Everywhere  were  decorations, 
people,  enthusiasm.  On  turning  one  of  the  corners  the  col- 
umn marched  between  two  solid  masses  of  fifteen  hundred 
school  children,  waving  flags  and  throwing  flowers — yes, 
whole  boquets  in  the  pathway  of  the  old  heroes.  Boys,  you 
wont  think  it  strange  when  I tell  you  there  wasn't  a dry  eye 
among  the  veterans  there  ; while  down  many  bronzed  cheeks 
that  never  quailed  in  front  of  blazing  rifles,  rolled  big  tears. 
Marching  over  hundreds  of  yards  carpeted  with  flowers,  half 
a dozen  or  more  inches  thick,  with  the  sweet  voices  of  those 
beautiful,  earnest  children  singing  grateful  praises.  Ah ! 
comrades,  it  was  nearer  heaven  than  any  spot  before.  It 
brought  to  mind  that  Gen.  Grant,  in  his  whole  life,  was  said 
to  have  been  overcome  by  his  feelings  but  twice  ; once  at  the 
death  of  a valued  friend  on  the  battlefield,  and  the  second 
time  by  his  reception  by  the  school  children  of  Oakland. 

“During all  day  the  Posts  and  associate  societies  kept  three 
splendid  banquets  open  in  different  halls — free  to  every  sol- 
dier and  friends.  In  the  evening  the  Topeka  Flambeau  Club 
gave  a splendid  pyrotechnic  display,  and  camp-fires  and  re- 
ceptions were  held  in  several  halls. 

“Tuesday,  August  10th,  was  ‘San  Jose  Day/  Several 
special  trains  took  thousands  of  excursionists  fifty  miles 


CAMP-FIBE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAB. 


393 


south,  through  a magnificent  country.  On  arrival,  the  same 
most  royal  welcome  was  met.  Free  carriages  (and  the  same 
for  use  as  desired  through  the  day)  for  all,  a banquet  that 
seemed  a little  better  than  almost  any  other,  and  the  most 
beautiful  ladies  one  can  ever  see,  dispensing  the  hospitalities 
in  a charming  manner.  The  city  (18,000)  was  handsomely 
decorated.  Speeches  were  made,  of  course,  and  lots  of  sing- 
ing done,  in  the  park  and  everywhere.  The  Daughters  of 
Veterans  kept  open  house  at  their  headquarters,  and  dispensed 
delightful  hospitality.  Their  beautiful  appearance,  in . their 
neat  uniform,  pleased  everyone.  They  gave  in  the  evening 
an  entertainment  and  exhibition  drill  at  Horticultural  Hall— 
which  wTas  pronounced  by  the  “vets”  to  be  the  very  best  in 
America. 

“ The  Horticultural  Fair  of  the  county  was  in  progress,  and 
the  veteran’s  badge  proved  a free  pass  to  enter  and  see  the 
wonderful  fruits  and  products.  The  county  has  five  hundred 
artesian  wells  (three  hundred  within  five  miles  of  San  Jose), 
which  are  run  mostly  by  wind-mills,  and  furnish  ample  irri- 
gation. 

“In  the  evening  the  Posts  of  the  city  held  a grand  camp- 
fire and  reception.  And  as  the  boys  .reviewed  that  day  of 
rare  enjoyment  they  all  agreed  that  there  seemed  to  be  some- 
thing in  the  good  people  there  that  gave  San  Jose  hospitality 
a peculiar  charm,  certain  to  be  always  gratefully  remem- 
bered. 

“Now,  boys,  join  with  me  and  sing  (in  the  tune  Home, 
Sweet  Home),  this  verse  to  California  : 

“California,  the  beautiful,  the  golden  and  the  grand, 

Our  hearts  are  filled  with  tenderness  toward  all  in  your  fair  land  ; 

You  met  the  strangers  from  afar,  with  welcome,  hearty,  true. 

Your  bannered  streets,  and  gorgeous  halls,  appeared  like  fairy  view. 

Fair  land  of  generous  souls, 

While  life  remains  our  hearts  will  beat  with  gratitude  to  you.” 


CAMP-FIRE  XL. 


SACRAMENTO  AKD  OTHER  CITIES  HONOR  THE  G.  A.  R.  — THE 
LADIES  OF  THE  GRAND  ARMY  OF  THE  REPUBLIC — THE 
WOMAN'S  RELIEF  CORPS  — THE  SONS  OF  VETERANS  — 
— THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  VETERANS  — THE  NATION'S  GRATE- 
FUL LOVE  FOR  THE  GRAND  ARMY. 

“(jfjg®  HE  Capital  City  of  the  Golden  State/'  remarked  the 
± returned  comrade,  “had  in  store  a surprising  welcome 
for  all  soldiers,  and  their  friends  with  them,  who  landed  at 
the  depot  about  6 p.  m.  The  boys  had  been  almost  spoiled 
with  feasting  during  the  day.  Leaving  'Frisco  on  Wednes- 
day, August  11,  at  7:30  a.  m,.  a ride  of  forty-six  miles  ter- 
minated in  a halt  of  two  hours  at  Napa,  a beautiful  city  of  ^ 
five  thousand  population.  There  must  have  been  three  times 
that  number  to  meet  us,  who  had  prepared  a splendid  ban- 
quet under  the  trees,  crowned  by  wagon-loads  of  matchless 
fruit.  Such  grapes,  pears,  apples,  plums  and  peaches  we 
don't  see  east.  Even  delicious  strawberries  (a  second  crop) 
were  furnished  to  us. 

A ride  of  eighteen  miles  brought  us  to  St.  Helena,  with 
about  two  thousand  five  hundred  people,  where  we  went 
through  again  with  a similar  programme.  Then  about 
seventy-five  miles  more  of  railroading  brought  us  to  Sacra- 
mento, a city  of  about  thirty  thousand  inhabitants.  At  least 
twice  that  number  was  on  hand  to  greet  the  veterans.  Free 
carriages,  free  street  cars  (all  reserved  for  the  soldiers  with 
badges  and  the  friends  with  them)  soon  transported  all  to  the 
mammoth  pavilion  of  the  State  Agricultural  Society.  Tables 
had  been  set  for  two  thousand,  and  spread  with  a banquet 
that  is  seldom  equaled.  One  Department  Chaplain  said  he 

394 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


395 


had  attended  a good  many  five-dollar  spreads  not  equal  to 
that.  The  tables  were  charmingly  waited  on  by  some  of  the 
loveliest  of  cultured  ladies.  The  hospitality  proved  almost  a 
fairy  scene  of  generosity  and  brilliancy,  and  will  be  a bright 
spot  in  the  memory  of  every  one  who  was  present.” 

“After  the  banquet  at  the  Pavilion  the  Governor  held  a re- 
ception at  the  State  House.  The  Topeka  Flambeau  Club  also 
gave  a marching  exhibition  of  fire  works. 

“At  all  receptions  wine  was  furnished  for  those  who 
wished  it,  literally  as  free  as  water.  And  yet,  such  was  the 
trusty  character  of  the  comrades  that  at  no  time  during  the 
Encampment,  was  there  any  intoxication ; a fact  mentioned 
by  the  daily  press  with  a surprised  commendation.  That 
night  all  the  visitors  were  lodged  free,  at  private  houses, 
hotels  and  boarding  houses.  The  next  day  they  were  carried 
to  visit  all  places  of  interest  and  fed  while  they  remained. 

“From  Sacramento  some  of  the  comrades  returned  directly 
to  the  east.  The  majority,  however,  went  back  to  San  Fran- 
cisco. On  Saturday,  August  14,  a large  number  took  an  ex- 
cursion 483  miles  south,  to  Los  Angeles  (15,000) — where  was 
another  huge  reception  with  the  same  grand  hospitality. 

“I  wish  there  was  time,  boys,  to  tell  you  about  the  smaller 
receptions  by  posts,  societies  and  individuals,  after  our  return 
to  San  Francisco.  Also  of  the  grand  ride  on  the  Pacific 
Ocean  by  steamer,  550  miles  north  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Columbia  river,  and  then  a hundred  miles  up  that  stream, 
with  its  river  scenery  unequaled  in  grandeur,  to  Portland, 
Oregon.  Fifteen  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  river  we 
stopped  an  hour  at  Astoria  (8,000),  the  headquarters  of  the 
great  salmon-canning  industry.  Portland  is  a fine  city  of 
25,000  inhabitants,  with  splendid  streets  and  business  blocks. 

“From  Portland  to  St.  Paul  is  1,912  miles  over  the  excel- 
lently equipped  Northern  Pacific  Eailroad,  and  through  a 
more  interesting  and  productive  country  than  some  of  the 
desert  wilds  we  traversed  on  the  Central  Pacific  Eailroad. 


396 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


“ Our  return  trip  from  San  Francisco  to  Chicago  has  cov- 
ered 2,971  miles- — nearly  300  more  than  the  outward  run. 

“ Before  I undertake  to  tell  other  interesting  things  about 
the  California  Encampment,  I must  first  speak  of  the  societies 
of  relatives  and  friends  of  the  veterans  of  the  G.  A.  R., 
who  are  organized  to  assist  in  the  good  work  of  charity  and 
loyalty,  in  which  the  Grand  Army  leads.  There  are  three 
associations  of  ladies  and  one  of  gentlemen. 

“I  mention  first,  Ladies  of  the  Grand  Army  of  Republic.” 
“Why,”  interrupted  the  sergeant,  “I  never  heard  that 
name  before.  What  kind  of  a history  are  you  giving  us?  I 
thought  they  were  called  the  Relief  Corps.” 

“I  am  not  now  speaking,”  said  the  narrator,  “of  that 
excellent  association,  the  Woman's  Relief  Corps,  but  of  a 
different  society.  As  I tell  you  the  facts  I have  taken  con- 
siderable pains  to  verify,  you  will  see  why  the  name  is  neW  to 
many,  though  the  association  itself,  the  Ladies  of  the  Grand 
Army  of  the  Republic,  is  the  oldest  patriotic  organization  of 
ladies  that  is  now  at  work . 

“In  the  year  1869  some  of  the  relatives  of  veterans  of  the 
war  in  the  State  of  Maine  formed  a ladies'  society.  Their  ob- 
ject was  to  aid  in  any  way  in  their  power,  the  old  soldiers  in 
the  work  of  caring  for  needy  soldiers  and  their  families,  or  the 
widows  and  orphans  of  veterans.  Also  in  teaching  to  the 
young  a genuine  loyalty,  and  in  stimulating  all  the  people  to 
the  truest  devotion  to  country.  They  called  themselves  the 
Relief  Corps  of  the  State  of  Maine,  and  none  were  admitted 
as  members  but  the  mothers,  wives,  sisters  and  daughters  of 
soldiers  or  sailors.  We  all  remember,  boys,  how  in  the  war 
we  prized  what  these  dear  relatives  of  ours  did  for  our  cheer 
and  comfort.  How  their  faith,  and  love  and  prayers  acted  as 
a nerve  to  every  one  of  our  hearts.  So  I needn't  take  much 
time  to  say  that  these  noble  women  did  a quiet,  gentle  work 
of  love  and  cheer,  that  was  of  great  aid  to  the  Grand  Army 
boys  in  Maine.  They  continued  their  work  quietly,  without 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OP  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


397 


attempting  to  spread  their  names  and  deeds  throughout  the 
nation.  Consequently  many  of  the  Grand  Army  did  not  know 
of  the  great  help  that  woman's  gentle  hand  and  warm  heart  of 
love  could  afford. 

“ The  success  of  this  organization  of  ladies  in  Maine,  demon- 
strated, however,  that  here  was  a mighty  ally  of  the  Grand 
Army's  best  work.  As  a result  there  was  formed  at  the  time 
of  the  Seventeenth  National  Encampment  of  the  G.  A.  R.  at 
Denver,  in  1883,  the  society  of  the  Woman's  Relief  Corps  — 
now  a very  powerful  organization.  They  took  the  name  that 
the  Maine  ladies  had,  but  altered  the  requirement  of  relation- 
ship to  soldiers,  and  voted  to  receive  as  members  any  respec- 
table loyal  ladies.  As  the  ladies  of  the  Relief  Corps  of  the 
State  of  Maine  have  now  formed  a part  of  the  Ladies  of  the 
Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  I have  mentioned  this  society 
first,  inasmuch  as  their  existence  began  some  fourteen  years 
before  the  Woman’s  Relief  Corps.  At  various  times  subse- 
quent to  1869  the  mothers,  wives,  daughters  and  sisters  of  the 
soldiers  organized  into  societies  at  different  points,  under  the 
name  of  the  Ladies'  Loyal  League,  the  membership  being  the 
strongest  in  the  States  of  Pennsylvania,  New  Jersey,  Ohio, 
West  Virginia,  Kansas  and  California.  They  admitted  none 
as  members  but  actual  relatives  of  soldiers. 

“ Early  in  the  year  1885  this  union  of  the  relatives  of  soldiers 
was  commenced  in  the  great  State  of  Illinois.  Mrs.  Edward 
Roby,  of  Chicago,  who  had  lost  a husband  and  four  brothers 
in  the  war,  and  who  had  been  actively  engaged  herself  in  war 
hospital  work,  and  since  that  time  for  good  to  the  soldiers, 
took  hold  of  the  matter  with  her  accustomed  zeal  and  wisdom. 
She  procured  a State  charter  for  the  Ladies  of  the  Grand 
Army  of  the  Republic,  and  soon  this  society  was  accomplish- 
ing a noble  work  in  the  great  State  which  gave  the  country  a 
Lincoln,  a Grant,  and  a Logan. 

“In  November,  1886,  a national  convention  was  held  in 
Chicago  of  all  the  three  associations  of  soldiers'  relatives,  the 


398 


CAMP-PIKE  CHATS  OP  THE  CIVIL  AVAR. 


State  Relief  Corps  of  Maine,  the  Ladies'  Loyal  League,  and 
the  Ladies  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic.  At  this  con- 
vention, the  name  for  the  united  societies  was  adopted,  the 
Ladies  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  — that  beautiful 
title  so  felicitously  chosen  first  in  a western  state.  Therefore, 
this  association  of  the  Ladies  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Re- 
public is  the  oldest  ladies'  loyal  organization,  though  not  the 
largest,  as  its  membership  does  not  exceed  ten  thousand. 

“ They  are  not  an  auxiliary  to  the  Grand  Army.  Their 
platform  and  resolutions  distinctly  state  that  fact,  and  that 
they  hold  themselves  free  to  act  wherever  they  choose,  and  as 
they  choose,  in  doing  good  to  the  soldiers  and  their  families, 
or  widows,  or  orphans.  Their  relationship  to  the  comrades 
of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  is  sufficient  glory  and 
recognition  for  them. 

“Another  active  principle  with  them  is  to  aid  in  increasing 
genuine  loyalty  in  our  land.  They  want  patriotism  taught  to 
our  young,  as  well  as  all  our  citizens.  They  secure  the  more 
frequent  use  of  patriotic  songs  and  reading  among  the  child- 
ren in  all  our  schools.  In  many  places,  they  have  secured  m 
every  school  what  is  called  “Grand  Army  Day,"  where  the 
Friday  afternoon  before  Decoration  Day  is  exclusively  given 
to  patriotic  exercises. 

“ The  national  president  of  the  Ladies  of  the  Grand  Army 
of  the  Republic  is  Mrs.  Laura  McNeir,  of  Camden,  jST.  J.,  a 
fine  writer  and  a very  eloquent  speaker.  They  who  were  the 
chief  officers  of  the  separate  organizations  (before  union  into 
one)  insisted  on  taking  subordinate  positions,  and  were 
elected  as  follows:  Senior  vice-president,  Mrs.  Charles  W. 

Gerwig,  Allegheny,  Penn.;  junior  vice-president,  Mrs.  Whit- 
man Sawyer,  Portland,  Me.;  national  counsellor,  Mrs.  Ed- 
ward Rob}q  Chicago;  national  corresponding  secretaries,  Mrs. 
M.  M.  Hall,  San  Francisco,  Cal.,  Mrs.  Libbie  N.  Butcher, 
Parkersburg,  W.  Va.,  Mrs.  Philip  Gunlock,  Chicago,  Mrs. 
Major  Gen.  0.  Edwards,  Warsaw,  111.,  Mrs.  Ida  L.  Gainer, 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


399 


McAlister,  I.  T.;  Chief  of  Council  of  Administration,  Mrs. 
Major  Gen.  John  A.  Logan,  Washington,  D.  0.” 

“What  good,”  said  the  Sergeant,  “have  the  Ladies  of  the 
G.  A.  E.  done  in  the  way  of  relief  work  ? ” 

“I  am  not  able,”  answered  the  narrator,  “to  give  any 
information  about  the  work  in  general.  I had  an  opportu- 
nity to  learn  what  Circle  No.  1,  in  Chicago,  accomplished. 
The  donations  raised  and  used  by  them  for  the  relief  of  old 
soldiers  and  their  families  during  one  year  amounted  to  over 
$3,000.  During  the  same  year  they  were  successful  (where 
others  had  failed)  in  securing  pensions  and  back  allowance  for 
soldiers  to  the  amount  of  over  $10,000.” 

“ Something  like  our  lady  relatives  in  war  time,  aren't 
they  ?”  said  the  handsome  Major,  “can't  be  beat.” 

“I  come  now,  boys,  to  the  largest  organization  of  loyal 
ladies  — the  Woman's  Relief  Corps.  Although  started  but  a 
little  over  three  years  ago  (viz.,  on  July  25,  1883,  at  Denver), 
they  number  over  40,000  members  at  the  present  time. 

“I  am  not  enough  of  an  orator,  comrades,  to  be  able  to 
speak  worthily  of  that  mighty  host  of  American  women. 
Their  warm  hearts;  their  sympathetic  souls  for  charity  (at  the 
same  time  with  superior  tact  and  discretion  in  its  disburse- 
ment); their  busy  fingers  and  feet  for  the  soldiers'  good; 
their  admiring  love  for  the  old  heroes;  their  true  patriotism; 
their  influence  in  inspiring  the  young  with  love  of  country; 
their  power  for  purity  (and  so  for  better  citizens  and  a better 
land);  the  success  of  their  bright,  happy  faces,  not  only  in 
ministering  to  the  poor,  the  sick,  and  the  suffering,  but  in 
bringing  also  to  the  well  a loving  courage  and  cheer;  their 
sincere  faith  and  heaven-reaching  prayers  — all  these  will 
bring  an  uplifting  leaven  of  hope  and  strength,  of  aid  and 
result,  of  cheer  and  reward  that  will  bless  every  veteran's 
heart,  if  open  to  receive  it. 

“Look  at  the  grand  women  that  lead  that  magnificent 
army!  Mrs.  Anna  Wittenmeyer,  of  Philadelphia,  that  angel 


400 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


of  healing,  whose  wise  work  saved  scores  of  thousands  of 
soldiers*  lives,  beside  relieving  suffering  and  pain  in  millions; 
whose  introduction  of  the  diet  kitchens  into  the  army  was 
perhaps  the  greatest  practical  good  any  woman  ever  did  to 
humanity.  See  that  beautiful  and  splendid  illustration  of 
American  womanhood,  Mrs.  Kate  B.  Sherwood,  of  Toledo, 
Ohio,  the  exquisite  poetess  and  writer  of  patriotic  eloquence, 
whose  words  will  nerve  and  bless  millions  upon  millions  every 
year,  while  time  shall  last.  Look  at  their  honored  national 
president,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  D’A.  Kinne,  of  San  Francisco,  and 
the  two  other  past  national  presidents  (beside  Mrs.  Sher- 
wood), Mrs.  E.  F.  Barker,  of  Malden,  Mass.,  and  Mrs.  Sarah 
E.  Fuller,  of  East  Boston,  Mass.  I can*t  stop  to  tell  you  the 
names  of  the  noble  women  who  are  officers  in  this  large 
organization  (thirty-two  departments  and  1500  vcorps),  or 
I should  keep  you  all  night.  It  will  be  more  interesting  to 
you  for  me  to  quote  some  of  the  words  and  records  of  the 
Grand  Army  about  this  auxiliary  to  its  usefulness. 

“The  Nineteenth  Encampment  resolved  ‘ That  the  Wo- 
man's Belief  Corps  has  our  earnest  wishes  for  its  continued 
success;  our  hearty  support  of  the  purposes  of  its  organiza- 
tion, and  our  cooperation  in  all  of  its  undertakings.* 

“Commander-in-chief,  Kountz,  said  at  Portland: 

Knowing  the  great  work  accomplished  by  the  ladies  in 
my  own  city,  and  their  efficient  help  in  the  charitable  work 
of  my  Post,  I have  always  been  a firm  believer  in  woman*s 
work  for  the  Grand  Army.  Wherever  the  Woman*s  Belief 
Corps  has  met  the  encouragement  from  our  comrades  that  it 
so  richly  deserves,  it  has  made  excellent  progress  and  been  an 
invaluable  help  in  our  fraternal  and  charitable  work.  It  is 
faithfully  fulfilling  its  mission,  and  while  we  welcome  all  who 
would  aid  in  our  great  work,  under  whatsoever  name,  I cor- 
dially commend  this  organization  of  loyal  ladies  to  the  con- 
tinued confidence  and  respect  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Be- 
public.* 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


401 


“Commander-in-Chief,  Gen.  S.  S.  Burdette,  said  in  Gen- 
eral Orders  on  Thanksgiving  Day,  1885: 

“‘  After  careful  observation  of  the  results  of  the  work  of 
the  Woman’s  Belief  Corps,  finding  in  it  room  for  commenda^ 
tion  only,  I recommend  with  all  earnestness  that  their  organi- 
zation be  encouraged  and  persevered  in  until  every  post  of  the 
Grand  Army  shall  have  by  its  side  this  efficient  aid  in  all  our 
works  of  beneficence,  these  best  guides  in  the  ways  of  doing 
good.  There  is  no  testimony  to  the  worth  of  our  great  insti- 
tution more  decisive  than  the  fact  that  the  woman’s  faith  and 
works,  which  was  our  bow  of  promise  in  the  darker  days,  still 
follow  us  with  unforgetting  kindness,  only  asking  leave  to 
serve  our  cause.’ 

“Gen.  Burdette,  in  his  report  at  San  Francisco,  said  : 
“‘The  Woman’s  Belief  Corps  has  passed  beyond  the  stage 
of  mere  patronage  or  commendation.  It  has  become  a settled 
auxiliary  and  recognized  agency  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the 
Bepublic  in  all  its  work  of  beneficence.  Its  fame,  whether 
for  good  or  ill,  is  ours,  and  the  proper  administration  of  its 
trusts  and  the  accomplishment  of  its  helpful  aim,  are  to  us 
as  well  as  itself,  matters  of  proper  concern.  I have  heard 
good  of  it  from  all  quarters,  evil  from  none.’ 

“The  present  Command er-in-Chief,  Gen.  Fairchild,  said 
at  San  Francisco,  in  regard  to  the  Woman’s  Belief  Corps: 

“ ‘It  is  fitting  that  the  patriotic  women  of  America  should 
share  with  us  the  work  which  recalls  a past  in  which  they 
bore  so  conspicuous  and  so  honorable  a part.  Let  our  Union 
be  fully  consummated  and  may  we  walk  together  in  Faith, 
Love  and  Charity,  until  death  do  us  part.’ 

“During  the  last  year  the  Woman’s  Belief  Corps  of  the 
United  States  expended  themselves  in  charity  $23,482  and 
turned  over  to  the  posts  over  $14,000.  Corps  funds  on  hand, 
June  30,  1886,  $24,267;  relief  fund  on  hand,  $20,321.  Still 
greater  relief  work  is  being  done  this  year.” 


402 


CAMP-EIBE  CHATS  OE  THE  CIVIL  WAIL 


“And  now,  comrades,  I come  to  a subject  of  deep  interest 
to  us  all  — the  Sons  of  Veterans,  our  boys.  That  they  should 
desire  to  aid  the  old  soldiers  and  to  honor  such  deeds  and 
patriotism  is  natural  and  praiseworthy. 

“The  Sons  of  Veterans  were  founded  in  Pittsburg,  Pa., 
in  November,  1881  by  Major  A.  P.  Davis,  a prominent  G-.  A. 
R.  comrade.  Their  objects  are: 

“To  keep  green  the  memories  of  our  fathers  and  their 
sacrifices  to  maintain  the  Union,  and  to  promote  their  interests 
and  welfare  as  opportunity  may  offer  or  necessity  may  demand; 
to  aid  and  assist  in  caring  for  their  helpless  and  disabled  vet- 
erans; to  extend  aid  and  protection  to  their  widows  and 
orphans;  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  their  heroic  dead  and 
the  proper  observance  of  Memorial  Day;  to  aid  and  assist 
worthy  and  needy  members  of  our  order;  to  inculcate  patri- 
otism and  love  of  country  among  our  membership,  and  all 
the  people  of  our  land,  and  to  spread  and  sustain  the  doctrine 
of  equal  rights,  universal  liberty,  and  justice  to  all. 

“They  have  grown  rapidly,  and  are  now  found  in  thirty- 
five  states  and  territories,  with  a membership  of  over  50,000. 
The  order  is  military  in  its  character  and  ceremonial  work 
and  officered  in  accordance  with  army  regulations.  I have 
myself  seen  some  splendid  drilling  done  by  different  camps. 
All  comrades  of  the  G.  A.  R.  are  cordially  welcomed  to  all 
meetings  at  all  times.  The  ceremonies  are  simple,  impress- 
ive and  helpful.  Their  lessons  are  beneficial  and  teach  true 
patriotism  and  the  highest  duties  of  citizens.  They  aid  the 
development  of  all  the  inherent  and  essential  qualities  of  a 
true  and  systematical  manhood.  There  can  be  no  foundation 
for  a young  men^s  society  equal  to  that  of  American  valor  and 
living  loyalty.  Like  the  Grand  Army,  no  politics  are  allowed 
in  the  order.  It  is  a feast,  comrades,  to  attend  their  meet- 
ings and  see  the  noble  spirit  displayed.  The  boys  are  chips 
off  the  old  block,  and  propose  to  do  something  by  their  own 
efforts.  They  intend  to  have  250,000  members  in  five  years. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


403 


This  spring  of  1887  sees  the  Sons  of  Veterans  established 
stronger  than  ever  in  public  estimation.  In  the  first  place, 
they  are  a splendid  body  of  young  men.  Valor  tells  every- 
where, and  through  succeeding  generations  shows  its  true 
nobility.  Again,  they  are  banded  together  for  the  best 
object,  the  perpetuation  of  freedom,  as  well  as  to  honor 
American  valor  and  care  for  the  needs  of  soldiers  and  their 
families.  Still  farther,  the  military  training  they  receive 
forms  a solid  strength  and  defense  to  the  nation ; always 
ready  for  efficient  work.  Leading  newspapers  are  advocating 
their  claim  to  generous  appreciation  everywhere.  Why  may 
not  the  people  rejoice  to  see  perpetuated  the  sturdy  vigor  and 
dauntless  spirit  of  Columbia’s  Immortal  Heroes  — the  admir- 
ation of  the  world  — especially  when  their  own  sons  are  the 
faithful  exemplars  ? The  boys  are  worthy  descendants  and 
are  showing  a gallant  appreciation  of  the  honor  and  duty 
bequeathed  to  them. 

“The  Grand  Army  have  often,  officially  and  otherwise, 
wished  the  Sons  of  Veterans  the  greatest  success. 

“ Commander-  in-  Chief  Burdette  well  expressed  the  senti- 
ment at  the  San  Francisco  Encampment: 

Whenever  our  ritual  is  said,  we  repeat  that  ‘ eternal 
vigilance  is  the  price  of  liberty.’  We  shall  be  content  to  va- 
cate our  posts,  if  as  we  fall  back  through  the  shadows  we  see 
the  picket-line  still  manned,  and  that  the  uniform  is  blue. 

“ 6 Becognizing  the  ability  and  the  will  of  the  generation 
we  ourselves  have  sent  to  the  front  to  do  the  duty  of  patriot- 
ism, we  give  to  the  Sons  of  Veterans  and  their  work  the  bless- 
ing of  the  heart  of  the  Grand  Army,  wishing  them  God-speed, 
in  their  united  and  patriotic  labors.’ 

“Gen.  Burdette’s  words  are  echoed  on  every  side.  I tell 
you,  comrades,  the  Grand  Army  and  the  loyal  public  are  ap- 
preciating more  fully  every  day  the  scope  and  value  of  the 
Sons  of  Veterans.  One  thing  is  sure,  had  there  been  such  an 
organization  in  January,  1861,  there  would  have  been  no  war. 


404  CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

“And  now,  boys,  a word  on  another  equally  interesting 
subject,  ‘ The  Daughters  of  Veterans/  We  met  Camp  No.  1, 
at  San  Jose,  Cal.,  and  it  rejoiced  every  veteran^  heart  to  see 
them.  Their  objects  are  much  the  same  as  those  of  the  Sons 
of  Veterans,  and  they  bring  young,  loving  and  beautiful  zeal 
to  the  noble  work  in  which  the  Grand  Army  leads.  Here- 
tofore they  have  been  mostly  identified  with  the  Woman’s 
Belief  Corps  (who,  at  San  Francisco,  by  resolution  warmly 
commended  them),  but  are  now  organizing  by  themselves.  St. 
Paul  has  started  the  work  in  the  northwest  with  a splendid 
camp,  and  in  Pennsylvania  and  in  several  other  states,  camps 
are  forming'.*  I have  heard  of  provisional  officers  for  a national 
organization.  The  best  information  can  be  obtained,  I pre- 
sume, from  the  one  to  whom  the  credit  belongs  of  being  the 
first  to  demonstrate  by  a splendid  success  what  the  old  soldiers* 
daughters  can  do.  I refer  to  the  efficient  and  charming  cap- 
tain of  the  San  Jose  camp.  Miss  Tina  C.  Hillman,  daughter 
of  Californians  beautiful  poetess,  Mrs.  E.  0.  Smith. 

“Comrades,  I find  I must  postpone  a host  of  things.  For 
a few  chats  I have  not  had  time  for  fun,  there  is  so  much  to 
tell  of  the  noble  in  the  scope  of  the  Grand  Army.  And  be- 
fore bidding  you  good-night,  let  me  say  that  the  great  heart 
of  our  people,  warm  and  loving  toward  the  old  soldier,  looks 
with  intense  interest  to-day  that  he  prove  a knight  without 
reproach,  as  he  has  shown  himself  one  without  fear.  As  said 
one  of  the  grandest  womanly  hearts  on  earth,  who  has  suffered 
for  the  country  more  than  any  soldier,  * You  have  earned  the 
everlasting  love  and  gratitude  of  all  the  good.  Oh!  that  our 
influence  may  help  you  toward  a purity  of  life  and  thought 
equal  to  your  valor!* 

“ Comrades!  to  eternal  muster  soon  we’ll  move; 

Clean  at  Heaven’s  inspection,  may  all  vet’rans  prove!” 


CAMP-FIRE  XLI. 


Libby  Prison  Purchased  and  Removed  to  Chicago.— 
The  Prison  in  1888. — What  Prisoners  first  Encoun- 
tered There. — Col.  Thomas  E.  Rose. — His  First 
Attempts  to  Escape. — “Rat  Hell/' — The  Famous 
Tunnel  Projected. — Digging  50  feet  under-ground 
with  an  old  Chisel. — A Desperate  Situation. — 
Escape  of  Rose  and  Others. 

“ T SEE  that  a goodly  number  of  the  boys  are  here 
to-night/'  remarked  a gray-haired  veteran  as  he  looked 
around. 

“ They  are  somewhat  excited  over  the  news  that  Libby 
prison  is  to  be  removed  to  Chicago,  and  they  have  come  to 
discuss  the  matter/'  was  the  reply. 

“We  are  to  hear  all  about  the  old  pen  to-night- " 

The  first  speaker  was  interrupted  by  the  voice  of  the  Post 
Commander,  whose  incisive  “ Attention ! " silenced  the  buzz 
of  conversation  and  all  eyes  were  directed  toward  that 
officer. 

The  usual  items  of  business  were  completed,  and  when 
Captain  Smith  arose  to  read  the  detailed  account  of  Colonel 
Rose's  historical  tunnel  escape  the  silence  became  almost 
oppressive.  He  read  as  follows: 

Several  patriotic  capitalists  have  purchased  the  old 
warehouse,  known  to  history  as  Libby  Prison,  and  will 
remove  it  to  Chicago,  where  it  will  be  re-erected  and  placed  on 
exhibition.  The  price  at  which  the  building  was  bought  was 
$23,000.  The  deed  has  been  recorded  in  the  name  of  W.  H. 
Gray,  of  Chicago,  and  the  work  of  removing  the  prison  will 

405 


40  6 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


LIBBY  PRISON  m 1865. 


probably  begin  at  once.  It  is  said  that  every  stone  will  be 
numbered  and  when  removed  to  its  new  home  placed  in 
exactly  the  position  which  they  occupied  before. 

Libby  Prison  was  built  in  1845,  by  John  Enders,  a 
tobacco  merchant,  and  used  till  1861  for  the  storage  of 
tobacco.  At  this  time  the  Confederate  government  took  it 
and  used  it  as  a prison  during  the  whole  of  the  war.  It  was 
kept  for  the  confinement  of  officers,  the  rank  and  file  being 
sent  to  Andersonville,  Belle  Isle,  and  Salisbury.  The  prison 
was  named  after  Libby,  the  lessee  of  the  building,  from 
whom  it  was  forcibly  taken  by  the  Confederate  government. 
Libby  was  afterwards  imprisoned  in  Fort  Warren  by  the  Fed- 
eral government,  “simply  because  the  prison  was  named 
after  him,”  as  his  son  said. 

A correspondent  of  the  Chicago  Tribune , writing  from 
Richmond,  says: 

Major  Thomas  P.  Turner,  the  commandant,  and  who, 
with  Winder,  narrowly  escaped  the  fate  of  Wirz,  the  Ander- 
sonville miscreant,  is  now  a farmer  some  miles  from  here, 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


407 


and  is  said  to  be  rich.  He  will  talk  on  any  subject  but  that 
of  Libby  Prison.  He  is  quite  old,  morose,  and  lias  but  lew 
friends  even  in  Virginia. 

Libby  Prison  stands  precisely  as  it  did  a quarter  of  a cent- 
ury ago,  when  crowded  with  the  captives  of  McClellan's 
army  caged  within  its  walls.  The  iron  bars  are  yet  before 
the  windows.  The  heavy  floors,  cut  and  carved  with  initials 
of  soldiers,  checker  and  backgammon  boards,  are  still  in 
place,  though  thickly  covered  with  dirt.  The  huge  hewn 
posts  that  support  the  floors  are  thick  with  soldiers*  names 
cut  deep  into  the  wood.  Rude  drawings  of  female  figures, 
horses,  etc.,  adorn  some  of  the  woodwork  and  doors.  Years 
ago  the  brick  walls  were  covered  with  names  and  sketches  in 
charcoal,  but  the  whitewash  brush  has  wholly  obliterated 
these.  On  one  post  appeared  “H.  T.  Gr.,  188  Pa.  Vols.**; 
“M.  D.  Richards,  3d  Pa.  Vols.**  “That  last  name,**  said 
the  guide,  “ was  formerly  (M.  D.  R.***  only,  but  some  years 
ago  when  a Pennsylvania  battalion  was  here  as  the  guest  of 
the  Richmond  troops,  one  old  soldier  of  the  battalion  came 
here,  hunted  up  the  post,  and,  scratching  off  the  whitewash, 
said  : “I  guess  1*11  finish  that  now,*  and  he  added  ‘ichards* 
to  it.  tfI*m  that  man,*  he  added.** 

The  most  tragic  of  all  the  inscriptions  is  this,  on  one  of 
the  doors  of  the  old  prison: 

“John  B.  Crafts,  Company  E,  Forty-third  New  York  Vol- 
unteers.** 

Later  some  comrade  added,  in  a different  style  of  carving: 

“ Hung  June  2,  1863,  for  making  a plot  to  get  out  of  Libby 
Prison.  ** 

Libby  Prison  contained  six  rooms,  each  about  100  feet 
long  and  40  feet  wide.  In  these  there  were  confined  Union 
officers  of  all  grades,  varying  at  different  periods  in  numbers 
from  200  to  1,000,  and  at  one  time  there  were  no  less  than 
1,200.  The  floors,  which  were  of  rough  boards,  were  washed 
every  afternoon,  so  that  they  were  always  wet  at  night.  No 
seats  were  at  one  time  allowed,  these  deadly  floors  serving 
both  as  beds  and  chairs;  and  as  few  of  the  prisoners  had 
bedding,  they  were  constantly  tormented  by  colds,  fever,  and 


408  camp-fire  chats  of  the  civil  war. 

ague,  which  often  resulted  in  consumption  and  death.  The 
windows  were  very  numerous,  and  as  most  of  them  had  the 
glass  broken  out,  the  sufferings  from  the  cold  were  some- 
times terrible.  Some  were  fortunate  enough  to  have  old 
army  blankets,  but  these  in  time  became  torn  and  filthy  from 
constant  use,  and,  despite  all  efforts  to  prevent  it,  full  of  ver- 
min. 

The  prisoners  bore  all  sorts  of  annoyances  from  the  caprices 
of  Turner,  the  keeper  and  Winder’s  chief  assistant  and 
adviser.  He  gave  orders  that  no  one  should  go  within  three 
feet  of  the  windows,  on  pain  of  death.  This  rule  was  rigidly 
and  cruelly  enforced,  and  the  guards  were  instructed  to  shoot 
all  that  showed  their  faces.  These  two  willing  and  officious 
menials  took  delight  in  “gunning  for  Yankees,”  and  did  not 
always  wait  for  the  prisoners  to  break  this  barbarous  and 
uncalled-for  precaution,  but  would  shoot  whenever  they 
caught  sight  of  a face. 

Lieutenant  Hammond,  one  day  stepped  into  a boarded 
inclosure . where  there  was  no  window,  and  thoughtlessly 
looked  through  an  opening.  A guard,  catching  sight  of  his 
hat,  coolly  levelled  his  piece,  and  fired.  Luckily  for  his 
intended  victim,  the  ball  glanced  from  a nail,  and  did  no 
more  harm  than  to  go  through  his  ear  and  hat  brim,  to  the 
intense  disgust  of  the  cowardly  Confederate.  Hammond 
reported  the  matter  to  Turner,  whose  answer  was,  “ The 
boys  are  in  want  of  practice.”  The  same  guard,  who  had 
laid  a wager  on  the  day  he  shot  at  Hammond,  that  he  would 
“kill  a damned  Yankee”  before  he  came  off  duty,  tried  at 
another  time  to  murder  Lieutenant  Huggins,  but  his  marks- 
manship appears  to  have  been  as  bad  as  his  treachery,  for  the 
lieutenant  escaped  uninjured. 

The  prisoners  were  usually  deprived  of  their  money, 
watches,  etc.  They  were  often  even  deprived  of  portions  of 
their  clothing.  The  return  of  these  in  exchanging  prisoners 
was  always  promised,  but  the  promises  were  rarely  kept. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


409 


“ There  were  cruelties  worse  than  these,  because  less  the 
result  of  impulse  and  recklessness,  and  because  deliberately 
done,”  says  the  report  of  the  committee  of  the  United  States 
Sanitary  Commission.  One  of  these  cruelties  was  the  regular 
lessening  of  the  daily  allowance  and  the  gradual  deterioration 
of  its  quality.  The  food  was  only  fit  for  dogs.  One  young 
officer  once  said  that  he  “ much  preferred  the  fodder  in  his  fath- 
er’s horse  stable.”  The  corn-bread  was  as  coarse  and  unpalat- 
able as  Southern  hatred  could  make  it;  and  the  cobs  and  husks 
sometimes  seemed  to  have  been  ground  up  with  the  corn.  It 
was  possible  to  eat  it  only  when  crushed  and  soaked.  Occa- 
sionally, sometimes  at  intervals  of  many  weeks,  a little  meat, 
a mere  mouthful,  often  tainted  and  always  of  the  poorest 
kind,  was  given  them.  Toward  the  close  of  the  war,  a pint 
of  peas  and  a little  vinegar  were  allowed  once  a week.  The 
peas  were  always  wormy  and  past  all  usefulness  except  as 
food  for  Yankees.  This,  too,  was  all  when  there  was  abun- 
dance of  supplies  at  the  command  of  the  rebels.  Once  the 
famishing  soldiers  pulled  up  a plank  over  a cellar  and  found 
great  quantities  of  provisions — flour,  turnips,  potatoes,  etc., 
of  which  they  ate  ravenously;  but  they  were  soon  discovered 
and  summarily  punished  by  a little  extra  starvation. 

At  first  boxes  containing  clothing  or  food  sent  from  their 
friends  in  the  North  were,  after  examination  by  the  officers, 
delivered  to  the  prisoners;  but  in  January,  1864,  this  liberty 
was  withdrawn,  no  reason  being  given  for  the  action.  About 
three  hundred  boxes  came  each  week,  but  they  were  only  heaped 
up  in  a neighboring  storehouse  or  used  by  the  Confederates. 
There  were  at  one  time  stored  in  this  warehouse  3,000  boxes, 
while  the  prisoners  were  starving  within  the  loathsome  walls 
of  Libby  as  if  there  were  a famine.  Officers  who  had  any 
money  were  permitted  to  send  out  for  provisions  and  to  pay 
double  or  treble  the  market  prices,  only  to  receive  from  the 
storehouse  the  boxes  which  really  belonged  to  them. 


4io 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


But  bv  far  the  most  interesting  incident  in  the  history 
of  Libby  Prison  was  the  famous  tunnel  escape  planned  by 
Thomas  E.  Rose,  Colonel  of  the  77th  Pennsylvania  Volun- 
teers. 

From  the  hour  of  Pose's  entrance  into  the  prison  he  made 
the  means  of  escape  his  constant  study.  He  and  Major  A.  G. 
Hamilton  of  the  12th  Kentucky  Cavalry  united  their  fortunes 
and  turned  their  whole  time  and  attention  to  plans  for  gaining 
their  liberty.  They  tried  many  ways,  but  were  continually 
disappointed  and  foiled.  They  first  attempted  to  escape  from 
an  upper  story  window,  but  were  unsuccessful.  Rose  had 
seen  men  going  in  on  the  south  side  by  a stairway  leading  to 
a cellar  under  the  lower  middle  floor,  and  believed  that  if  he 
could  only  gain  admittance  to  this  cellar  he  could  slip  by 
the  sentinels.  One  night  he  pried  a plank  from  the  kitchen 
floor,  and  by  means  of  a long  board  put  down  the  hole 
descended  into  the  cellar.  He  found  that  the  stairway  from 
the  street  had  no  door,  but  was  an  open  entrance.  After 
carefully  examining  the  place,  Rose  returned  to  the  kitchen 
and  retired  for  the  night.  He  had  in  some  way  secured  a 
rope  about  one  hundred  feet  long,  and  the  next  night  he  again 
lifted  the  plank  from  the  floor,  tied  his  rope  to  a post  in  the 
kitchen,  and  once  more  went  down  into  the  cellar.  To  his 
great  grief,  he  now  found  there  were  two  guards  instead  of 
one,  which  made  the  contemplated  escape  much  more  hazard- 
ous. Nothing  daunted,  he  continued  to  survey  the  premises 
and  visited  the  cellar  several  times  in  this  way. 

At  last  one  dark  night,  Hamilton  and  he  resolved  to 
attempt  the  passage  at  whatever  risk,  and  proceeded  to 
the  cellar  as  usual.  Rose  went  ahead  and  succeeded  in  pass- 
ing the  first  sentinel,  but  the  second  saw  him  and  growled  : 

“ Who  goes  there?" 

Quick  as  lightning  Rose  darted  back  into  the  cellar,  and 
the  two  men  had  just  time  to  climb  into  the  room  above  and 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  411 

replace  the  plank  when  the  guards  entered  with  lights  and 
carefully  searched  the  cellar.  Some  workmen  were  sleeping 
in  one  end  of  the  cellar  that  night,  and  they  were  awakened 
and  questioned  by  the  searchers,  but  they  declared  it  was 
none  of  them.  As  no  trace  of  any  other  human  being  was  to 
be  found,  they  insisted  that  it  must  have  been  one  of  the 
workmen  and  retired  evidently  satisfied.  Our  heroes  were 
not  to  be  discouraged,  and  the  next  night  they  were  at  it 
again. 

They  could  yet  see  no  way  of  escape  but  to  pass  the  guards, 
and  that  would  require  a number  of  men  to  act  promptly  and 
all  at  once.  Besides,  their  intimacy  had  excited  the  suspicions 
of  their  fellow  prisoners;  and  this  causing  a great  deal  of 
gossip,  they  found  it  necessary  to  increase  their  party  in 
order  to  keep  their  plans  more  secret.  Seventy  men  were 
taken  into  their  confidence  and  sworn  to  follow  and  obey  Rose. 
They  were  all  conducted  to  the  cellar  and  made  acquainted 
with  every  part  of  the  place. 

One  night  soon  afterwards,  they  all  again  went  down  with 
the  intention  of  seizing  the  guard;  but  just  as  they  had  reached 
the  cellar  Rose’s  watchman  above  gave  the  danger  signal,  and 
all  retreated  to  the  kitchen.  Rose,  who  always  waited  till 
the  last  man  had  got  safely  through,  had  just  fixed  the  plank 
in  its  place  when  the  guards  entered  the  kitchen  from  the 
street  door  with  lanterns.  He  had  neither  time  to  hide  nor 
retreat,  so  he  sat  down  on  a bench,  closed  his  eyes,  and 
appeared  to  be  fast  asleep.  The  guards  looked  at  him  a 
moment  and  then  passed  on  to  the  rooms  above. 

They  now  increased  the  party  to  420,  all  sworn  to  obedi- 
ence and  secrecy.  With  this  number  they  entered  the  cellar, 
but  very  wisely  decided  not  to  attempt  to  pass  the  guards,  as 
it  seemed  impossible  to  do  it  without  their  giving  the  alarm. 
The  scheme  was  entirely  abandoned,  and  no  more  was  said  or 
done  about  it.  Rose  and  Hamilton,  however,  were  irrepressi- 


112 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


SECTION  OF  INTERIOR  OF  LIBBY  PRISON  AND  TUNNEL. 


1.  Streight’sroom.  2.  Milroy’s  room.  3.  Commandant’s  office.  4.  Chick- 
amauga  room  (upper).  5.  Chickamauga  room  (lower).  6.  Dining  room.  7. 
Carpenter’s  shop  (middle  cellar) . 8.  Gettysburg  room  (upper).  9.  Gettysburg 

room  (lower).  10.  Hospital  room.  11.  East  or  Rat  Hell  ” cellar. 

ble,  and  worked  on  secretly.  They  soon  after  attempted  to 
escape  through  a small  sewer  leading  from  the  building  to 
the  main  sewer  in  the  street,  and  thence  to  the  canal,  but  this 
too  failed. 

Rose  now  determined  that  it  was  necessary  to  reach 
another  cellar  at  the  east  end  of  the  building.  This  place  was 
called  “Rat  Hell,”  on  account  of  the  immense  swarms  of 
rats  that  infested  it.  It  was  found  impracticable  to  reach 
this  cellar  except  by  cutting  a hole  downward  in  the  brick- 
work at  the  back  of  the  kitchen  fire-place.  This  was  a tre- 
mendous undertaking,  as  they  had  to  cut  the  mortar  out 
with  an  old  jack-knife,  and,  besides,  must  do  all  the  work  at 
night.  At  four  in  the  morning,  when  they  heard  the  senti- 
nel’s call,  they  would  quietly  replace  the  bricks,  throw  the 
soot  back  over  them  so  as  to  hide  all  traces  of  the  break  in 
the  wall,  and  then  retire. 

After  many  nights  of  the  most  arduous  labor,  they  pierced 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


413 


SECTION  OF  INTERIOR  OF  LIBBY  PRISON  AND  TUNNEL.  ' 

12.  South  side  Canal  street,  ten  feet  lower  than  Carey  street.  13.  North  side 
Carey  street,  ground  sloping-  towards  Canal.  14.  Open  lot.  15.  Tunnel.  16. 
Fence.  17.  Shed.  18.  Kerr’s  warehouse.  19.  Office  James  River  Towing- Co. 
20.  Gate.  21.  Prisoners  escaping-.  22.  West  cellar. 

through  to  the  cellar,  and  on  several  following  nights  went 
down  and  made  a minute  examination  of  it.  They  again 
increased  their  party  to  thirteen,  and  attempted  to  dig  from 
the  southeast  corner  of  “Rat  Hell”  to  the  main  sewer;  hut 
after  working  awhile  they  came  to  heavy  timbers  in  the  foun- 
dation. This  seemed  an  insuperable  obstacle,  but  the  stout- 
hearted Rose  and  Hamilton  encouraged  them,  and  with  the 
most  disagreeable  and  monotonous  labor  cut  the  timbers 
through.  They  had  no  sooner  overcome  this  hinderance  and 
gone  a few  feet  into  the  earth  than  the  water  rushed  in  from 
the  canal,  the  ground  being  low  and  soft.  With  great  diffi- 
culty they  plugged  the  hole  and  then  abandoned  it.  Rosp  was 
nearly  drowned  in  this  adventure. 

All  but  Rose  and  Hamilton  became  thoroughly  discouraged 
and  gave  up  all  hopes.  The  two  men  now  began  operations  for 
the  excavation  of  a tunnel  from  the  south  side  of  the  cellar, 
beneath  a lot  fifty  feet  wide.  They  broke  ground  in  three 


414 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


places  before  they  found  earth  dry  enough  and  strong  enough. 
They  began  an  opening  about  two  feet  in  diameter,  intending 
to  go  on  and  finish  the  work  alone;  but  the  labor  was  found 
to  be  so  great  that  they  thought  best  to  admit  a few  trusted 
companions  into  their  confidence. 

They  had  no  tools  but  jack-knives  and  an  old  chisel,  and 
used  a wooden  spittoon,  with  a rope  attached  to  two  sides,  to 
draw  the  earth  out  of  the  tunnel.  One  would  dig;  another 
would  haul  the  earth  into  the  cellar  and  hide  it  beneath  the 
straw  with  which  the  ground  was  covered  to  the  depth  of  two 
or  three  feet;  and  a third  would  keep  watch.  They  were  in  per- 
petual danger  of  detection,  as  the  guards  were  likely  to  search 
the  prison  any  moment.  When  such  a thing  did  occur,  they 
managed  to  hide  and  escape  notice.  As  all  must  be  done  at 
night,  Hildas  no  speech  was  allowed,  the  work  was  indescrib- 
ably tedious.  When  they  had  gone  some  distance  they  found 
it  impossible  to  breathe,  on  account  of  the  foul  gases;  but 
Hamilton  invented  the  plan  of  fanning  air  into  the  tunnel 
with  a rubber  blanket,  which  succeeded  very  well. 

When  they  were  more  than  half  way  across  the  lot,  Maj. 
B.  B.  McDonald  (101st  Ohio),  one  of  thechief  helpers,  believ- 
ing that  they  were  within  the  yard  at  the  opposite  side,  pierced 
the  earth  overhead,  but  was  horrified  to  find  that  they  were 
yet  some  distance  from  the  yard  and  in  full  sight  of  a senti- 
nel. Without  being  observed,  Rose  filled  the  hole  up  with 
his  blouse,  first  smearing  it  over  with  mud,  so  that  it  would 
not  be  seen.  This  seeming  misfortune  proved  to  be  a blessing. 
From  the  upper  window  they  could  see  the  blouse  and  found 
it  necessary  to  change  the  direction  of  the  tunnel. 

Certain  movements  on  the  part  of  the  Confederates  now 
made  them  fear  that  their  plans  were  discovered;  and  they 
redoubled  their  energies,  so  that  they  might  get  away  before 
the  keepers  had  time  to  interfere. 

Rose  worked  in  the  tunnel  one  day  (Sunday,  February  7) 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR, 


415 


from  before  daylight  till  late  at  night,  but  was  then  obliged 
to  rest,  being  thoroughly  worn  out.  He  took  a night  of  sleep, 
and  on  Monday  went  at  it  again,  allowing  no  one  else  to  do 
the  digging,  he  being  found  best  at  it. 

The  great  length  of  the  tunnel  now  made  it  almost  impos- 
sible to  get  breath;  and,  as  he  had  been  working  incessantly 
fur  hours,  he  suddenly  felt  overcome  and  completely  exhausted 
from  his  long  exertions.  He  was  so  weak  that  he  could 
neither  continue  his  work  nor  return  to  the  cellar,  and  he  saw 
that  he  must  perish  unless  he  could  get  air  at  once. 

In  agony  he  struck  with  his  fists  at  the  roof  of  the  tunnel. 
To  his  great  joy  the  earth  gave  way.  Refreshed  by  the  pure 
air,  he  sprang  out.  He  found  himself  in  a large  empty  yard 
with  a clear  starry  sky  above  him.  He  quickly  examined  the 
surroundings,  and  hastened  back  to  the  cellar  with  the  joyful 
news  that  the  tunnel  was  at  last  finished. 

As  may  be  imagined,  they  could  scarcely  restrain  them- 
selves from  cheering.  As  it  was  now  nearly  morning,  it  was 
too  late  to  attempt  the  escape  that  night;  and  they  resolved 
to  take  one  last  night's  sleep  in  the  old  prison  and  go  out  the 
following  night.  When  the  next  night  came  and  the  eventful 
hour  had  dragged  itself  around,  109  men  left  the  dismal  walls 
of  Libby,  59  of  them  never  to  return  again.  Of  the  remain- 
ing 50,  48  were  recaptured  and  taken  back  to  the  prison,  and 
two  were  drowned.  Only  one  man  was  retaken  within  the 
city,  the  rest  all  escaping  to  the  open  country. 

Rose  and  Hamilton  left  the  prison  together,  but  running 
upon  a squad  of  Confederate  guards,  they  got  separated  in 
endeavoring  to  elude  them,  and  now  each  continued  his  jour- 
ney alone.  After  leaving  Richmond,  Rose  followed  the  York 
River  railroad  to  the  Chickahominy  bridge,  but  finding  this 
guarded,  he  left  the  track  and  turned  to  the  right. 

At  daybreak  he  came  upon  some  Confederate  guards,  and 
to  escape  them  he  crawled  into  a hollow  log,  where  he 


416 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


remained  until  dark  within  sight  and  hearing  of  the  Confed- 
erates, though  the  day  was  bitterly  cold.  In  the  evening  lie 
ventured  out  and  forded  the  Chickahominy;  but  it  was  with 
great  difficulty,  as  the  stream  was  broad  and  in  some  places 
quite  deep.  He  then  hurried  on  through  the  woods,  but  soon 
encountered  more  Confederates.  He  was  compelled  to  hide 
again;  and  as  the  cold  had  increased,  his  ragged  garments, 
drenched  in  the  Chickahominy,  were  frozen  stiff.  At  night 
he  was  again  on  the  march. 

He  had  to  wade  through  a swamp  up  to  his  waist  in  water 
for  a great  distance;  and  no  sooner  had  he  come  to  dry  land 
than  he  once  more  ran  across  a Confederate  camp.  He 
passed  it  unseen,  and  pressed  onward  with  indomitable 
energy.  He  had  managed  to  keep  dry  a box  of  matches 
which  he  brought  from  Libby,  and  as  the  night  was  coming 
on  and  it  was  very  cold,  he  felt  that  he  must  have  a fire  or 
perish.  He  found  a piece  of  hollow  ground  in  the  middle  of 
a thicket  where  he  thought  he  would  not  be  seen,  made  a 
good  fire  and  lay  down  by  it,  weak  and  exhausted,  and  slept 
soundly  till  morning — “so  soundly,  that  on  waking  he  found 
his  boot  legs  and  half  his  uniform  were  burned  up,  the  ice  on 
the  rest  of  it  having  prevented  its  total  destruction.”  On 
continuing  his  journey  he  passed,  early  in  the  day,  a Confed- 
erate picket.  Soon  after  he  came  to  a second,  and  had  just 
passed  it  safely,  when  he  was  seen  and  pursued  by  a troop  of 
Confederate  cavalry.  With  the  greatest  difficulty  he  eluded 
them  by  moving  from  one  thicket  to  another  and  by  going 
bent  nearly  double  for  half  a mile  in  a ditch  in  some  place 
almost  knee-deep  with  mud. 

His  face  and  hands  were  torn  by  briars,  and  his  foot,  which 
he  had  had  broken  before  his  capture  in  Tennessee,  now  gave 
him  great  pain.  When  he  arrived  at  the  further  end,  he  was 
half  dead  from  exhaustion,  and  was  forced  to  seek  a hiding- 
place  and  take  a few  hours’  rest.  He  was  now  on  the  Williams- 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


4r7 


burg  road.  In  the  course  of  the  day,  he  passed  with  safety 
several  Confederate  pickets,  and  went  on  until  midnight.  He 
then  lay  down  at  the  foot  of  a tree  and  slept  till  morning, 
when  his  injured  foot  made  it  possible  for  him  to  make  but 
slow  progress.  He  kept  on,  however,  and  soon  to  his  unut- 
terable joy  beheld  at  a short  distance  a body  of  Union  soldiers 
coming  towards  him. 

Overcome  partly  by  the  prodigious  sufferings  which  he 
had  gone  through,  and  perhaps  partly  by  his  ecstasy  at  the 
thought  of  regaining  his  liberty,  he  sat  down  to  await  their 
approach.  Just  then  he  noticed,  a few  yards  from  him  on  the 
road,  three  soldiers  dressed  in  Union  blue,  and  he  advanced 
to  meet  them.  Imagine  his  feelings,  after  all  his  trials  and 
sufferings  in  the  struggle  for  freedom,  and  just  as  he  thought 
his  hopes  were  to  be  realized,  when  he  found  that  they  were 
Confederate  spies  in  disguise  and  that  he  was  again  in  the 
hands  of  the  rebels.  They  were  hastening  on  before  the  Union 
troops  which  he  had  seen.  He  tried  to  convince  them  that 
he  was  a Confederate,  but  it  was  in  vain.  He  was  put  in 
charge  of  one  of  the  men  and  taken  along  by  him.  But  Bose 
had  overcome  so  many  obstacles  already  to  gain  his  object 
that  he  felt  he  could  not,  without  a desperate  effort,  allow 
himself  to  be  dragged  back  to  the  loathsome  dungeon  at 
Kichmond.  When  he  saw  an  opportunity,  he  sprang  at  the 
throat  of  his  guard,  wrenched  the  musket  from  his  grasp,  dis- 
charged it  in  the  open  air  and  dashed  it  to  the  ground,  and 
ran  off  in  the  direction  of  the  Federal  soldiers  as  fast  as  his 
wounded  foot  would  allow  him. 

His  hopes  again  rose,  for  his  astonished  guard  did  not 
follow  him;  and  he  was  sure  that  in  a few  minutes  he  must 
meet  his  friends.  What  a moment!  He  could  scarcely  for- 
bear to  shout  for  joy.  But  no  ; he  was  again  doomed  to  bit- 
ter disappointment.  A number  of  Confederates  he  had  not 
before  seen  rose  up  in  his  very  path  and  beat  him  down  with 


418 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


their  muskets.  All  was  now  lost.  He  was  ruthlessly 
dragged  back  to  Richmond  and  once  more  placed  in  Libby 
Prison,  where  he  was  treated  with  increased  cruelties.  Here 
he  remained  for  about  ten  weeks  longer,  when  he  was 
exchanged  for  a Confederate  officer.  After  his  liberation,  he 
rejoined  his  regiment  and  fought  gallantly  with  it  till  the 
close  of  the  war. 

Hamilton,  who  was  among  those  who  reached  the  Union 
lines,  now  lives  at  Reedyville,  Kentucky.  Rose  holds  a cap- 
tain’s commission  in  the  16th  United  States  Infantry. 


CAMP  FIRE  XLII. 


G.  A.  R.  History  Continued.  21st  National  Encamp- 
ment at  St.  Louis — The  Gray  Joining  to  Honor  the 
Blue — Eight  Miles  of  Illuminations — Magnificent 
Hospitality — An  Old  Virginia  Rain — 22nd  Encamp- 
ment at  Columbus,  0. — The  Buckeye  State  has  the 
Largest  Crowd — And  Takes  Care  of  Them  Perfectly 
— An  Unequaled  Parade— The  Strength  of  the 
Grand  Army  in  1887  and  1888. 

ALL  in!  fall  in!”  again  resounded  cheerily.  “Rally 
for  the  Camp  Fire  ! ” 

“ Hurrah!  hurrah!  the  G.  A.  R.  you  know! 

Hurrah ! hurrah ! a mighty  host  will  show ! 

For  to  St.  Louis  Uncle  Billy  says  we  ought  to  go, 

And  what  Tecumseh  says,  is  so.” 

The  chorus  rang  out  grandly,  and  was  succeeded  by 
torrents  of  cheers  to  welcome  the  Encampment  comrade 
whose  eloquent  description  of  California’s  glory  had  been  so 
highly  enjoyed.  Many  talks  had  been  held  on  the  subject  of 
each  year’s  National  Encampment,  and  a large  gathering  of 
vets  greeted  the  eminent  traveling  comrade,  so  well  posted  in 
Grand  Army  growth. 

“ Boys,”  said  he,  “ your  enthusiasm  makes  it  a great 
pleasure  to  tell  you  of  the  grand  progress  of  the  G.  A.  R. 

“At  St.  Louis  Encampment,  Sept.  27th  to  30th,  1887,  a 
specially  happy  feature  of  the  magnificent  welcome  was  the 
enthusiastic  aid  of  the  ex-Confederates.  Of  the  $100,000 
raised  in  the  city  in  one  day,  more  than  half  was  given  by 
those  who  had  worn  the  gray.  And  many  of  the  prominent 
members  and  most  untiring  workers  on  the  local  committees 
were  those  who  had  fought  in  the  Southern  army.  Mark*  of 

421 


422 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


eager  welcome  abounded  on  all  sides.  In  addition  to  the  most 
liberal  and  brilliant  decorations  of  buildings,  there  were  nearly 
eight  miles  of  streets  illuminated  each  night  by  thickly-set 
gas  jets,  enclosed  in  red,  white  and  blue  globes,  arranged  in 
arches  alongside  the  curb-stone.  Occasionally  other  arches 
spanned  the  streets,  several  crowned  with  brilliant  war  pic- 
tures. The  first  cost  of  the  gas  burned  in  the  illuminations 
was  over  $12,000.  Eansom  Post,  where  General  Sherman  is 
a member,  raised  $5,000  among  their  own  membership,  hired 
the  largest  down-town  hall,  and  kept  open  house  night  and 
day  for  a week,  giving  many  thousands  of  visiting  comrades 
meals  equal  to  a banquet.  Comrade  Bedington  had  trained 
a glee  club  of  their  post,  who,  with  a splendid  band,  hired 
for  the  week,  gave  glorious  music.  Everybody  joined  in  the 
choruses,  and  sent  out  a grand  volume  of  patriotic  song, 
seemingly  equal  to  reaching  as  far  as  the  Eocky  Mountains. 
Blair  Post  also  hired  a large  down-town  hall ; Hassendeibel 
Post,  a rink  ; Lyon  Post,  two  floors  of  a block,  and  two  other 
posts  smaller  quarters,  at  all  of  which  most  liberal  and  con- 
tinuous hospitality  was  extended. 

But  it  rained  — all  the  week  — a cold,  severe  storm.  The 
weather  could  hardly  have  been  worse.  In  spite  of  all,  how- 
ever, there  were  over  seventy-five  thousand  comrades  present 
from  outside  the  city,  and  several  times  as  many  of  their 
friends  and  the  public.  Over  fifteen  thousand  marched 
through  a drenching  rain  in  the  parade  on  Tuesday,  Septem- 
ber 27th.  Platforms  of  seats  had  been  erected,  from  which 
singing  societies  and  choruses  of  children  were  to  sing  the 
old  war  songs.  The  rain  sadly  interfered.  Splendid-  camp- 
fires and  receptions  were  numerously  held  every  evening. 
The  Woman's  Belief  Corps  had  grand  meetings  and  recep- 
tions. They  elected  as  national  president  Mrs.  Emma  Stark 
Hampton,  of  Detroit,  Mich.  The  strength  of  the  Grand 
Army  of  the  Eepublic  on  March  31st,  1887,  was  38  depart- 
ments, 6,312  posts,  354,775  comrades.  Comrade  John  P. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


423 


Rea,  of  Minneapolis,  Minn.,  was  elected  Commander-in- 
Ohief. 

So  many  good  people  were  born  in  Ohio,  or  ought  to  have 
been  (according  to  the  Buckeye  newspapers)  that  the  Twenty- 
second  National  Encampment,  at  Columbus,  September  11th 
to  14th,  1888,  was  the  most  largely  attended  of  any  ever  held. 
Through  a quarrel  among  railroads,  a very  low  rate  of  fare 
was  secured.  Comrades  and  their  friends  and  the  general 
public  poured  into  the  city  to  the  extent  of  over  300,000 — a 
pretty  good  population  for  a city  of  100,000  people.  Yet  so 
thoroughly  and  wisely  had  the  preparations  been  made  that 
all  found  comfortable  quarters  at  reasonable  rates.  Of  course 
the  tents,  provided  free,  sheltered  many  thousands.  The 
State  House,  and  all  public  and  private  halls  and  ™any 
churches  and  school-houses  were  given  up  to  headquarters, 
camp-fires,  re-unions,  etc.  One  tent  had  capacity  for  an 
audience  of  10,000. 

The  weather  was  perfect,  and  the  enjoyment  of  the  entire 
week  was  unalloyed  and  enthusiastic.  Wells  Post  held  rous- 
ing camp-fires  in  their  hall  every  evening.  Their  post  room 
was  constantly  open,  and  every  visitor  received  a regular 
“ B.  C.”  hard -tack  and  a newly  grown  buckeye.  A magnifi- 
cent concert  by  1,200  school  children,  aided  by  a male  chorus 
of  300,  was  given  from  the  capitol  steps  to  an  audience  of 
over  20,000  people. 

But  the  grandest  feature,  and  the  chief  of  all  encamp- 
ments ever  held,  was  the  parade  on  Tuesday,  Sept,  lltli. 
There  were  75,000  men  in  eighteen  divisions;  the  18th  being 
the  Sons  of  Veterans.  The  comrades  marched  in  platoons  of 
twelve  men,  and  the  line,  marching  without  break,  was  five 
hours  in  passing.  It  took  nearly  three  hours  for  Ohio  com- 
rades to  pass  the  reviewing  stand.  Some  facetiously  feared 
it  would  be  dark  before  any  but  Ohio  soldiers  would  get  a 
chance  to  march  by.  The  police,  aided  by  details  of  Sons  of 
Veterans,  kept  the  wide,  beautiful  streets  thoroughly  clear 


424 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


for  the  column  to  pass.  Over  a hundred  hands  and  drum 
corps  sent  thrilling  notes  through  the  beautiful  atmosphere 
of  a perfect  day.  The  naval  comrades  made  a very  telling 
display,  several  gun  boats  and  mortar  boats  passing  on  wheels, 
with  the  old  tars  heaving  the  lead,  firing  mortars,  etc.  Loud 
cheers  greeted  the  salts  who  marched  on  foot,  with  hands 
extended  to  the  right  and  left,  to  rest  on  the  shoulders  of 
shipmates  in  the  same  platoon.  The  California  comrades, 
several  hundred  strong,  made  a particularly  impressive 
appearance ; arrayed  in  gorgeous  uniforms,  and  absolutely 
perfect  in  drill.  The  whole  five  hours  proved  a grand  inspira- 
tion, and  a mighty  testimony  of  the  matchless  power  of 
American  patriotism. 

Br^  what  most  thrilled  the  half  million  people  who 
crowded  the  sidewalks  and  buildings  and  roofs,  and  brought 
tears  to  nearly  every  eye,  was  the  passing  of  the  old  battle 
flags.  The  Ohio  war- crowned  battle  flags,  some  two 
hundred  in  number,  were  taken  from  their  resting  place  in 
the  capitol  and  borne  (as  far  as  possible  by  those  who  carried 
them  in  battle)  at  the  head  of  the  column.  On  reaching  the 
reviewing  stand  the  color  bearers  formed  line  on  the  side  of 
the  street  so  that  every  person,  in  passing,  could  see  the 
“Old  Glory”  tattered  remnants.  And  how  they  did  cheer; 
some  even  kissing  the  sacred  folds  for  which  they  had  shed 
their  blood. 

“At  a later  gathering  there  were  throbbing  hearts  as  a 
comrade  (to  the  familiar  tune  of  * Union/  or  * My  Maryland'’) 
sang  these  touching  words: 

“ Nothing  but  flags,  but  simple  flags, 

Tattered  and  torn,  hanging  in  rags; 

We  walk  beneath  with  careless  tread. 

Nor  think  of  hosts  of  mighty  dead 
Who’ve  trod  beneath  in  days  gone  by. 

With  burning  cheek  and  eager  eye: 

And  bathed  their  folds  in  life’s  red  tide, 

And  dying,  blessed — and  blessing,  died. 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


425 


“ Nothing  but  flags;  they’re  bathed  in  tears, 

They  tell  of  triumphs.,  hopes  and  fears; 

Of  mother’s  prayers  for  boy  away. 

That  he  return  some  coming  day. 

Silent  they  speak,  and  tears  will  start, 

We  see  them  now  with  aching  heart: 

And  think  of  those  who’re  ne’er  forgot. 

Their  flags  came  home — why  come  they  not  ? 

“ Nothing  but  flags!  we  hold  our  breath 
And  view  with  awe  those  types  of  death: 

Nothing  but  flags;  yet  thoughts  will  come. 

The  heart  must  pray,  though  lips  be  dumb, 

They’re  sacred,  pure — we  see  no  stain 
On  those  loved  flags  come  home  again  ; 

Baptized  in  blood,  our  purest,  best, 

Tattered  and  torn,  they’re  now  at  rest.” 

xxn  important  item  of  the  business  transacted  at  this 
encampment,  was  the  reception  of  a careful  report  from  the 
Department  of  Wisconsin  on  the  histories  in  use  in  our  pub- 
lic schools.  Publishers  in  general  (desiring  to  sell  in  both 
North  and  South)  have  ignored  the  causes  of,  and  seemed 
unable  to  comprehend  that  there  was  aright  and  wrong  side 
to  the  war.  Their  doughface  truculency  has  failed,  how- 
ever, to  secure  a circulation  in  the  South.  The  department 
procured  several  different  histories  now  used  in  the  common 
schools  of  the  South,  and  found  that  all  equally  agree  upon 
one  point — to  teach  a thoroughly  studied,  rank,  partisan  sys- 
tem of  state  rights  and  the  glory  of  the  treason  of  the  South. 
The  report  thus  summarizes  the  matter  : 

“These  Southern  school  histories  teach  the  same  identical 
doctrine,  more  radical  and  partisan  than  before  the  war:  as 
they  now  proclaim  the  righteousness  of  their  cause,  and  vin- 
dicate state  sovereignty  and  secession. 

“ It  is  indeed  time  to  cease  toying  with  treason  for  policy. 
It  is  not  advocating  sectional  issues  or  animosities  to  advocate 
that  this  matter  be  dealt  with  strictly  in  accordance  with  the 
true  facts  of  history. 


426 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


•'Our  government  is  not  just  to  its  people;  we  are  not  just 
to  our  sons  and  daughters  unless  we  demand  that  in  our 
school  histories  there  be  space  sufficient  to  elucidate  this 
monstrous  heresy. 

"It  is  time  that  a broad,  comprehensive,  constitutional. 
Union-loving  patriotism  should  be  taught  in  our  common 
schools.  We  have  had  one  epoch  of  supineness  and  apathy 
upon  this  question,  and  the  result  was  that  the  nation  had  to 
send  3,000,000  of  her  best  citizens  to  the  field,  of  whom  a 
half  million  never  returned.  And  twice  that  number  are 
disabled  or  weakened  for  life  through  wounds,  sickness  or 
exposure,  and  more  than  as  many  widows  and  orphans  mourn 
the  never-to-be-seen  faces  of  their  protectors,  who  fell  as 
martyrs  for  liberty. 

"Union  heroes  throttled  this  heresy  on  the  battle-fields  of 
our  country ; and  now  it  is  in  our  hands  to  resolve  whether 
or  not  we  will,  as  far  as  our  influence  extends,  see  to  it  that 
our  children  are  supplied  with  a school  history  from  which 
they  can  learn  the  reasons  why  their  fathers  went  forth  to 
battle  for  the  unity  of  the  states,  for  the  constitution  and  for  the 
supremacy  of  law.” 

A somewhat  similar  address  came  to  the  encampment 
from  the  Woman's  Relief  Corps.  Mrs.  Charity  Rusk  Craig,  of 
Viroqua,  Wis.,  was  elected  National  President  of  theW.  R.  C. 

The  request  of  a year  ago  of  the  National  Encampment 
for  a disability  pension,  was  increased  to  a call  for  a service 
pension  to  every  soldier,  sailor  or  marine  (who  had  served 
sixty  days  or  more),  of  eight  dollars  per  month ; and  to  all 
who  served  a period  exceeding  800  days,  an  additional 
amount  of  one  cent  per  day  for  each  day's  service  exceeding 
that  period.  Also  that  all  soldiers'  and  sailors'  widows  be 
placed  on  the  pension  list  without  regard  to  the  time  of  the 
soldier's  service  or  the  cause  of  death. 

Over  a quarter  of  a million  dollars  were  expended  during 
the  year  by  the  Grand  Army  in  charity.  Massachusetts  led 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


427 


in  the  good  work  bj  a handsome  percentage,  having 
expended  $43,875,  or  $2.16  per  member. 

Affection  for  the  Sons  of  Veterans  was  re-affirmed  in  the 
following  resolution  : 

Resolved , That  this  Encampment  endorse  the  objects  and 
purposes  of  the  order  of  Sons  of  Veterans,  U.  S.  A.,  and 
hereby  give  to  that  order  the  official  recognition  of  the 
Grand  Army  of  the  Eepublic,  and  recommend  that  comrades 
aid  and  encourage  the  institution  of  camps  of  Sons  of  Veter- 
ans, U.  S.  A. 

The  strength  of  the  Grand  Army  on  June  30,  1888,  was : 
Departments,  40;  posts,  6,283;  comrades,  395,320. 

Comrade  William  Warner,  of  Kansas  City,  Mo.,  was 
unanimously  elected  (by  acclamation)  Commander-in-Chief. 
The  navy  received  its  first  prominent  recognition  in  the 
unanimous  election  (by  acclamation)  of  Comrade  Joseph 
Hadfield,  of  New  York  City,  as  Junior  Vice-Commander-in- 
Chief. 

Here  is  a statement  showing  the  progress  made  by  the 
G.  A.  R.  since  1872,  year  by  year:  1872,  28,693  members; 
1873,  26,791;  1874,  27,385;  1875,  27,929;  1876,  26,889;  1877, 
27,179;  1878,31,016;  1879,  44,752;  1880,  60,934;  1881,  85,856; 
1882,  134,701;  1883,  215,446;  1884,  273,168;  1885,  294,787; 
1886,  323,571,  and  in  1887,  355,916. 


CAMP  FIRE  XLIII. 


The  Twenty-third  National  Encampment  at  Milwau. 
kee,  Wis.,  August  27  to  30,  1889 — Continued  Growth 
of  the  Order — Ah  Enthusiastic  Badger  Welcome— 
A Most  Brilliant  Naval  Battle  — Present  Mem- 
bership, 410,686. 

WHE  1889  gathering  at  Milwaukee  will  long  be  remem- 
bered from  the  genuine  enjoyment  through  the  whole 
time  of  all  in  attendance.  There  have  been  larger  gatherings 
of  the  Grand  Army,  but  a superior  geniality  in  welcoming 
treatment  has  never  been  met.  The  reduced  attendance  arose 
from  the  fact  that  the  Department  Commanders  of  six  States, 
as  a protest  against  railroad  fares  being  higher  than  last  year, 
issued  circulars  advising  their  members  not  to  come.  The 
lower  fare  of  1888  came  through  a railroad  war  of  rates.  As 
the  railroads*  fight  (and  loss)  was  not  on  hand  this  year,  every 
effort  to  change  their  charge  was  fruitless.  The  persons  dis- 
couraging attendance  had  the  greatest  publicity  given  in 
the  newspapers  to  their  efforts,  and  matters  looked  blue  for 
a grand  rally  at  Milwaukee.  The  boycotting  action  was 
severe  treatment  against  the  Cream  City  which  had  done 
so  much  to  honor  the  veterans.  Not  only  had  the  citizens 
raised,  by  special  tax,  $50,000,  and  a guarantee  fund  of 
$283,000,  but  they  had  put  forth  greater  efforts  for  the 
enjoyment  of  visitors  than  had  ever  been  made  elsewhere. 
A naval  battle  on  the  lake,  and  two  immense  war  concerts, 
were  leading  attractions.  Yet  the  utmost  thoroughness 
and  wisdom  prevailed  in  preparations  for  the  comfort  of 
guests.  An  Executive  Council  of  Grand  Army  men  and  citi- 
zens held  frequent  meetings  for  months.  Good  boarding 
places  were  secured  in  advance  for  40,000  people,  in  addition 

428 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


429 


to  accommodations  in  tents  to  any  extent  desired.  A corps 
of  fifty  guides  was  at  the  free  service  of  visitors.  Hospitals 
opened  their  doors  free  to  the  comrades  who  might  be  ill. 

The  best  physicians  in  the  city  volunteered  to  be  on  duty 
at  the  Board  of  Health  office  and  at  the  camps — some  one 
always  present  — to  prescribe,  free,  for  any  veterans  taken 
sick ; and  the  drug  stores  filled  their  prescriptions  free.  All 
these  thorough  and  systematic  preparations  were  made  well  in 
advance,  while  outside  several  important  department  com- 
manders were  doing  all  in  their  power  to  keep  people  away. 
Such  generous  liberality  and  such  pluck  and  nerve  as  Mil- 
waukee showed,  entitled  her  to  the  thanks  of  every  friend  of 
the  G.  A.  R.  Add  to  that  the  perfect  geniality  with  which 
every  comrade  or  member  of  the  W.  R.  C.,  or  every  son  of  a 
veteran  was  greeted,  an  unusual  happiness  was  secured  to  every 
visitor.  Milwaukee  was  magnanimous  as  well  as  generous, 
and  the  result  was  a feast  of  heart-thrilling  welcome  on  every 
hand.  The  city  has  literally  covered  herself  with  glory.  The 
universal  verdict  of  probably  200,000  visitors  was  “perfect.” 
The  decorations  were  superb,  and  extended  over  more  miles  of 
streets  than  ever  before  at  an  Encampment.  Thousands  of 
residences  were  liberally  trimmed  with  the  red,  white  and 
blue,  and  appropriate  patriotic  decorations.  Visitors  did  not 
expect  that  a city  with  such  a large  proportion  of  Germans 
and  foreigners  would  equal  other  cities  where  the  encamp- 
ment had  been  held.  But  the  beautiful  metropolis  of  the 
Badger  State  surpassed  them  all.  The  superb  success  of  Mil- 
waukee's thorough  efforts  render  it  appropriate  to  record  the 
names  of  the  local  comrades  at  the  head  of  their  working 
force.  They  were  A.  G.  Weissert  and  Col.  C.  K.  Pier,  Chairman 
and  Secretary  of  the  Executive  Council.  They  proved 
worthy  leaders  of  the  225,000  people  of  the  city  to  make  the 
Grand  Army  happy.  Aside  from  the  warm-hearted  geniality 
on  every  side,  the  fact  that  less  people  came  than  prepara- 


430 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


tions  had  been  made  for,  gave  the  ones  on  hand  a less 
crowded,  as  well  as  a more  jolly  time. 

The  weather  was  almost  perfect.  A little  warm  on  one  or 
two  days,  but  clear  and  beautiful.  The  parade  on  Tuesday, 
August  27th,  was  the  finest  thing  ever  seen  in  Wisconsin.  The 
number  of  comrades  in  line  was  about  20,000.  The  ovation 
to  the  veterans  was  as  hearty  as  the  city*s  welcome  had  been 
warm.  Cheers  and  the  waving  of  flags  and  handkerchiefs 
were  continuous  through  the  entire  length  of  the  march, 
about  three  miles. 

The  Encampment  business  sessions  opened  Wednesday 
morning,  with  a most  eloquent  address  and  report  from 
Commander-in-chief  Warner.  Speaking  of  the  Grand  Army 
of  the  Republic,  he  said : 

“It  is  the  grandest  civic  organization  the  world  has  ever 
seen.  Its  list  of  membership  is  the  nation^  roll  of  honor.  It 
contains  the  most  illustrious  names  in  history ; the  names  of 
the  brave  men  who,  in  the  darkest  days  of  the  Rebellion, 
followed  the  Stars  and  Stripes  as  the  emblem,  not  of  a con- 
federacy of  States  bound  together  by  ropes  of  sand,  but  as  the 
emblem  of  an  indissoluble  Union  of  indestructible  States. 

“Its  membership  constitutes  the  great  conservative  element 
of  the  Nation  ; the  champions  of  civil  and  religious  liberty ; 
recognizing  no  flag  but  the  Stars  and  Stripes ; believing  that 
loyalty  is  a virtue  and  treason  a crime.  It  was  this  spirit  of 
loyalty,  love  of  liberty,  reverence  for  the  Constitution  and  an 
inborn  respect  for  the  law  that  made  the  volunteer  soldier  and 
sailor  of  *61  to  *65  the  thinking  machine — the  model  soldier 
and  sailor  of  all  time.  Of  these  there  are  enrolled  under  our 
banner  of  Fraternity,  Charity  and  Royalty,  410,686  comrades; 
in  6,711  posts,  in  42  departments.  On  the  9th  of  August  we 
scaled  the  walls  ox  Fort  oamter,  organized  a Grand  Army 
post  and  installed  the  officers  on  the  ramparts  of  that  historic 
spot.  The  gain  during  the  past  year  has  been  351  posts  and 
21,431  members.  Eight  departments  aggregate  a membership 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.  431 

gain  of  15,824,  distributed  as  follows  : Missouri,  3,652,  Wis- 
consin, 2,023,  Ohio,  2,003,  New  York,  1,995,  Pennsylvania, 
1,746,  Nebraska,  1,709,  Iowa,  1,413,  Illinois,  1,283.  Ten 
years  ago  the  Grand  Army  membership  was  35,961.  There 
have  been  mustered  out  by  death  during  the  year  4,696, 
nearly  one-eighth  of  all  our  comrades. 

“The  charitable  work  of  the  Grand  Army  is  much  larger 
than  officially  reported  to  National  Headquarters ; that  amount 
being  for  the  past  year  $237,487.  The  aggregate  reported 
since  1871  is  $1,935,936. 

“ The  Encampment  heartily  endorsed  the  presenting  the 
American  flag  to  public  schools.  Let  the  children  receive 
the  Stars  and  Stripes  from  the  men  who  placed  their  bodies  as 
a living  wall  between  it  and  those  who  would  tear  it  down. 
Let  them  learn  to  look  with  reverence  upon  the  American 
flag  by  angels*  hands  to  valor  given. 

“ The  charity  work  has  been  greatly  aided  by  the  Womans 
Relief  Corps.  This  magnificent  auxiliary  to  the  G.  A.  R. 
has  now  increased  to  nearly  75,000  in  membership.  Their 
splendid  success  has  demonstrated  the  wisdom  of  their  admit- 
ting to  membership  all  loyal  ladies.  The  society  restricting 
membership  to  actual  relatives  of  soldiers,  has  not  increased 
to  any  considerable  extent.  The  soldiers*  relatives  draw  their 
funds  for  charity  work  from  the  soldiers  themselves — like 
taking  money  from  one  pocket  to  put  in  the  other.  The  W. 
R.  C.,  however,  draw  funds  from  scores  of  thousands  of 
members  outside  of  soldiers*  families,  and  actively  enlist  a far 
larger  force  of  active  workers  among  the  public  at  large.  As 
it  was  in  the  war  time,  every  loyal  lady  possible  is  enlisted  to 
aid  soldiers  and  their  families.  Veterans,  as  a class,  are  not 
wealthy.  To  their  glory  be  it  said,  they  sacrificed  their 
strength  and  time  and  opportunity  for  profit  on  the  altar  of 
the  country*s  salvation.  Place  not  upon  them  and  their 
families  the  burden  belonging  to  the  whole  nation,  to  faith- 
fully care  for  the  needy  soldiers  and  widows  and  orphans. 


432 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


The  veterans  are  rapidly  mustering  out ; their  families  follow ; 
the  circle  is  narrowing  fast.  But  the  Woman’s  Relief  Corps 
has  more  than  twenty  millions  of  loyal  women  from  which  to 
recruit  a rapidly  and  permanently  growing  membership — not 
alone  to  care  for  the  soldiers  and  families  to  the  last  survivor, 
but  to  forever  perpetuate,  like  the  Spartan  women  of  old,  the 
most  thorough  instruction  and  inspiration  in  loyalty.” 

Their  social  aid  to  the  Grand  Army  is  warmly  commended 
officially  by  Gen.  Warner  : 

“The  Woman’s  Relief  Corps  has  contributed  much  to 
strengthen  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic.  It  has  been 
and  is  the  handmaiden  of  charity  to  our  organization.  The 
proceedings  at  our  post  meetings  are  often  tedious  and  unin- 
teresting. The  natural  result  is  a diminishing  attendance. 
The  question  is  : What  shall  be  done  to  interest  our  mem- 
bers ? The  answer  is  : Have  more  open  meetings  where  we 

can  cultivate  the  social  side  of  our  natures,  rather  than  the 
regular  order  of  business,  which  at  times  becomes  monotonous 
to  the  most  enthusiastic  comrade.  The  best  elixir  of  life  is 
found  in  the  social  gatherings  where  wit,  humor  and  good 
feeling  abound.  Such  a meeting  is  impossible  without  the 
presence  and  active  assistance  of  woman  ; therefore,  it  is  that 
the  post  which  has  the  most  efficient  Relief  Corps,  can  give 
the  best  entertainments  and  have  the  largest  attendance  at  its 
regular  meetings.  Let  uo  one  think  that  my  estimate  of  the 
good  done  by  this  noble  band  of  women  is  confined  to  the 
sunshine  they  bring  to  our  social  gatherings,  for  their  unceas- 
ing and  tender  sympathy  has  gladdened  the  heart,  smoothed 
the  pillow  and  moistened  the  eye  of  many  a comrade  in  sick- 
ness, sorrow  and  privation.  While  we  have  been  engaged  in 
the  whirl  of  business,  our  sister  has  been  the  c humble  instru- 
ment in  the  hands  of  Him  that  doth  the  raven  feed/  to 
minister  to  the  wants  of  the  destitute  comrades,  widows  and 
orphans.  I feel  that  I voice  the  sentiment  of  every  comrade 


CAMP-FIRE  CHATS  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 


433 


when  I say  to  the  Woman's  Relief  Corps,  ‘ God  speed  and  bless 
you  in  your  work.' " 

Mrs.  Anna  Wittenmeyer,  of  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  was  elected 
W.  R.  C.  National  President  for  the  ensuing  year.  She  was 
the  eminent  chief  of  army  nurses,  whose  system  of  diet  kitch- 
ens during  the  war  proved  of  incalculable  benefit. 

The  Encampment  took  vigorous  position  for  pensions  to 
widows  of  all  honorably  discharged  soldiers;  $12  per  month  to 
soldiers  and  sailors  who  are  now  or  may  hereafter  become  dis- 
abled, without  proof  that  it  arose  from  causes  in  the  line  of 
duty,  and  also  leaving  out  the  dependent  clause ; pensions  for 
dependent  parents  from  time  of  actual  dependence,  whether 
at  or  subsequent  to  the  son's  enlistment;  also  an  increase 
of  pensions  for  minor  children  from  $2  to  $5  per  month. 

General  Russell  A.  Alger,  of  Detroit,  Mich.,  was  elected 
Commander-in-chief. 

The  naval  veterans  were  on  deck  in  large  force,  and 
elected  William  Simmons,  of  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  Commander 
of  their  National  Association. 

Gen.  Sherman  was  present  and  was  everywhere  the  recip- 
ient of  most  enthusiastic  welcome.  At  the  Soldiers'  Home 
he  was  pressed  so  hard  for  a speech  that  he  responded  briefly; 
saying,  however,  that  his  speaking  days  were  over. 

On  Thursday  evening  the  naval  battle  took  place  on 
Milwaukee  Bay,  and  was  witnessed  by  over  300,000  people. 
There  had  been  built  30,000  seats  on  the  bluff  at  a cost  of 
$15,000.  It  was  supposed  that  $1.00  per  seat  must  be 
charged,  even  to  soldiers,  but  a large  manufacturing  company 
of  the  city  paid  the  entire  cost,  and  presented  the  use  of  the 
seats  free  to  veterans  and  their  families. 

The  battle  display  was  grand.  Some  thirty  ships,  mon- 
itors, gun-boats  (three  from  the  U.  S.  Navy)  and  vessels, 
vigorously  bombarded  several  batteries  on  shore,  and  repre- 
sented also  gallant  charges  of  marines  on  the  land  forces, 
only  to  be  repulsed  with  fiercest  musketry ; the  whole  termi- 


434  CAMP-FIRE  * CHATS  OP  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

nating  in  one  vessel's  burning  up  and  another  blown  up  by 
explosion  of  the  magazine. 

Well,  comrades,  I must  not  linger*  for  more  particulars 
now.  The  Grand  Army  is  growing,  and  is  stronger  than  ever 
in  members  and  in  its  hold  on  the  affection  of  the  people. 
The  men  whose  valor  and  self-sacrifice  saved  the  Nation  are 
blessed  by  her  grateful  homage.  Their  fame  will  grow 
brighter  and  brighter. 

“ The  deeds  the  boys  in  blue  have  done, 

The  Freedom — triumphs  they  have  won, 

Wrote  names  to  which  proud  Fame  will  lend 
A glory-crown  till  time  shall  end. 

IPs  glory  to  have  stood  with  those 
Who  put  down  Freedom's  deadly  foes; 

It’s  pride  enough  and  honor,  too, 

To  be  4 Old  Glory’s  ’ boys  in  blue.” 


1 


3ots-y 


